Perspectives
by words without
Summary: -Royai- What Roy Mustang wants most, he won't let himself have. Unfortunately for Riza, what he wants most is her. And of course the homunculi have to get themselves involved. An ancient fanfic in desperate need of revision.
1. Chapter 1

AN- meh...this'd be my first fanfic,and my first time posting on a site like this,so thats my excuse for any and all stupid mistakes i'm guranteeded to make ;;. it's a Royai story, so it has a lot of angst/romance in it. however, i'm NOT at all a big romance writer usually, so this is a big change for me. plus, since i'm the kind of person who isnt happy with a story unless there's at least one big, bloody battle scene in it, expect there to be some of that. for all u action fans, i promise there'll be plenty of violence in later chapters if you can sweat out the romance. i write A LOT, which means this is not the place to come if ur a drabble/one-shot fan. i tried to control myself, tho- so far, none of my chapters are over 9 microsoft word pages. thats good for me, trust me. ;;. as for the story line, i based the ending off pictures i've seen from the last episode, but it doesnt really follow the anime story line. for instance, hughes is still alive cause i love him, and what i'm not sure of-like pride's powers- i pretty much just made up. timeline's not that complicated, tho, so...well, enough of my babbling, enjoy! reviews are welcome, of course, but if you're gonna flame--flame _nicely!_ XD**

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Riza

It was just your ordinary day.

Plenty of paperwork, a quick, hurried lunch taken in the office, the daily ritual of trying to get the colonel to do something -_anything_- that had to do with his job. Never an easy task, 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye mused as she strode down the hallway, but then, so little in life was easy, it seemed. Shifting the stack of papers she was carrying, she made her way to the colonel's office, which, although not technically hers, might as well have been; she spent most of the day in there, working side-by-side with her superior.

Well…when he _felt _like working, that is…

As she reached the office, she noticed the door was closed, which, although nothing unusual for most people, was a sure sign that the colonel wasn't doing what he was supposed to be doing. Sighing slightly, she raised her hand to knock on the door- and stopped when she heard his voice ring out.

"Yeah, yeah, I _heard_ you, Hughes. You can stop repeating yourself now."

This outburst was followed by another, more care-free voice-

"Well, ex_-cuuse_ me, Mr. Colonel. I was just making sure you didn't forget."

"Grr…" the colonel's voice was dripping with irritation, which was quite normal when he talked with Maes Hughes. "How the hell could I forget, Hughes, we've been talking about it for the past _hour!_"

"Yeah, but with my luck you'll forget anyway,"

"_Your_ luck? Remind me, Hughes, what does any of this have to do with you?"

"Oh, come on, you know how long I've been waiting! I mean, come on, how long's it been since you met her?"

Riza stopped listening, sighing louder. Of course…Colonel Roy Mustang was discussing girls, _again_. Besides procrastinating, that was his favorite hobby- women. Not a single Friday night went by without him blowing out of the office early, eager to go on his date with whoever he was seeing that week. Very rarely was it ever the same girl twice. Him caring one way or the other about the girl was even rarer. No, Roy went on these dates with women for one reason, and one reason only; he was known as something of a legend among the other guys. He never had to worry about finding a date, either- women flocked to him the way bees flock to honey. They were always the same kind of girl, too- always ditzy, always loud, always willing and eager to go out with the great Flame Alchemist, hero of Ishbal. Half of these women weren't even sure what Ishbal _was_, but that didn't seem to bother Roy- he liked being considered a hero, even if his nightmares always increased after a date spent bragging about his many 'honorable achievements' during a war in which there was no honor. It wasn't like he spent too much of a night after a date _sleeping_, anyway.

Riza shook her head. For a moment, she'd thought it might have been something important. Still, it _was_ unusual for the colonel to pine over a girl like this. Roy Mustang didn't _pine,_ he _dated_. He never hesitated to ask a pretty girl out, and almost always, the girl never hesitated to accept. So why was he suddenly so uptight about…..

For a split second, Riza felt a small glimmer of hope stirring inside of her, but she quickly shot it down. She was being ridiculous, she told herself firmly. She'd been over this a million times. Dragging up feelings she wasn't ready to admit she had would only complicate matters…especially standing in front of the colonel's door. She raised her hand, determined to forget whatever she'd overheard, only to have her hand pause in midair as the door opened.

"Oh, sorry, Lieutenant," Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes gave her a friendly smile as he slipped past her into the hallway. "Didn't realize you were there."

Riza didn't return his smile- she almost _never_ smiled. However, she nodded her head, and her usually stern amber eyes did soften somewhat. She liked Maes Hughes, nearly everyone did—he was filled to the brim with light-hearted, carefree friendliness. Hughes pretty much never got upset over anything--it was hard _not_ to like him.

_However_…the same people who said they liked him were also the first to call him annoying (especially Roy Mustang). It wasn't that he never took things seriously….it was just that, if you talked to him, you were pretty much guaranteed to have to listen to him go on and on and _on_ about his wife and young daughter- he'd even show you a photo album's worth of pictures. If there was one word that described Hughes at times like that, it was obsessed.

"Saaay, Lieutenant…" Hughes had that tone in his voice which meant he was up to something, plus his eyes were crinkling up behind his glasses. "You _are_ staying till closing time tonight, right?"

Riza looked at him, puzzled. "Of course, sir, I always do." Mentally, she thought he should be asking the_ colonel_ that question, not her- today _was_ Friday, after all.

"Heh, ok, good. I was just checking 'cause—"

"_Hughes._" Roy Mustang, standing behind his desk, didn't sound too happy. "I'm sure you have a lot of work to do…so why don't you go do it!"

"Fine, _Sir_, I can see when I'm not wanted. See you around, Hawkeye." He waved to her, and went off humming down the hallway. Riza stared after him, still taken aback by his question- why exactly _had_ he asked her that?

"Irritating little…." Colonel Mustang shook his head, aggravated, and flopped down into his chair. "Well, Lieutenant Hawkeye, you get those forms?"

"Yes sir, and also, Second Lieutenant Havoc informed me that these need to be signed as well."

"Arrrgh…" Mustang groaned--he hated signing forms. "Dammit, couldn't he just forge my signature or something?"

"Don't be ridiculous, sir," she told him dryly, setting the stack of papers down on his desk. "Lieutenant Havoc could get into serious trouble for doing that."

"Good old Hawkeye, ruining my dreams like always." He put his head down on his desk, glaring at the papers as if he could scare them away.

"No sir, just being practical. If Lieutenant Havoc did get into trouble, you'd have to deal with a lot more stress and paperwork."

The Colonel lifted his head off the desk and looked at her with a smirk on his face.

(The same infamous smirk that he nearly always wore, the same smirk that appeared on his face whether he was picking up girls, or worming his way out of work, or berating Edward Elric, or getting drunk in some seedy bar, all the while telling the unconcerned barkeep about what a great alchemist he was, such a great alchemist, everyone knew that, even the Ishbalans that he'd killed with a burst of flames, the Ishbalans who couldn't defend themselves, the Ishbalans who haunted his dreams and oh lord, what he wouldn't do for one night where they didn't come at him from the grave, trying to drag him down with them into hell…)

"Sir?"

Colonel Mustang sat up and stretched, the late afternoon sun streaming in through the big floor-length window behind him. "You know something, Hawkeye, you outta stop being so practical for a change." He knew, of course, that there was no way in hell that would ever happen- Riza was known for her calm, collected manner, for never getting upset or excited or showing _any_ emotion over _anything_. "Try wearing your hair down." He eyed the blond hair that she had fastened to the back of her head in the usual bun. "I mean that literally, by the way."

"Sorry, sir, but it would get in the way during work." She turned to go.

"Hey," the Colonel protested, "Where're you going?"

"The shooting range, sir, I'm due to train for the next half hour."

"Hmph, like you really need it," he muttered; Riza was the best sharp-shooter in the military, everyone knew that. "Well, on your way back, can you grab me a cup of coffee?"

"Sorry, sir," she informed him briskly, "I'm a first lieutenant, not a secretary." She left, shutting the door behind her. Roy let out a snort. How was it, that diligent, loyal Riza, who never broke any rules or protocols, and who was _never_ insubordinate, always managed to one-up him like that?

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Riza sat at her desk in Roy's office- she was in there so much she had a place of her own to work- systematically organizing and reordering papers. She may not have been a secretary, but she certainly had her share of secretary work to fill out. Of course, everyone did. Roy always complained the most about it, though, being Roy. Right now, he wasn't complaining….he was instead drumming his fingers on his desk. Every now and then he'd look at the papers in front of him, decide that he wasn't 'in the mood yet', and go back to drumming. Riza was used to this by now, and had no trouble blocking him out. Besides…her mind was on something else. 

Although she'd done everything in her power to try and not think about it, the conversation she'd overheard and Hughes's weirder-then-usual behavior kept playing and replaying in her mind. The colonel really _had_ been acting weird before…kind of out of it, like it'd been taking him a few seconds to understand whatever she'd said. Who could it be, she wondered as she methodically went about her work, what girl could possibly be so important to Roy as to leave such a mark on him?

A small part of her began to whisper, and this time, try as she might, she couldn't tune it out. Could it be…was it even possible that…._no, of course not, don't be silly_. She furrowed her brows, angry with herself for wasting time thinking about this idiotic business. It was none of her concern who the colonel was dating. Of course, she _did_ wish he'd go out with a better caliber of girls- girls who didn't giggle incessantly, even when nothing funny had been said, girls who weren't all too willing to get drunk and go to bed on the first night, girls with more interests then just clothes and money, a girl who could take care of herself….and suddenly the small voice inside her yelled, _a girl like me!_

Riza was so startled she let out a faint gasp. Embarrassed, she glanced over at Roy, who didn't seem to notice. Just in case, she buried herself in an extremely boring report, trying to look intrested. She was so rattled- and the fact that she _was_ rattled just made her even more uneven- that she couldn't focus on the words in front of her. She'd never admitted to herself just how deep her feelings for the colonel might be...

_This is nonsense,_ she told herself sternly. _He's the colonel, and that is all_. She could see him as a friend, perhaps, but not as….certainly not as….well, anyway, even if she _did _have those feelings for him- which she didn't- it wasn't like she was going to do anything about it. She had pledged to always support Roy, no matter what—but that didn't mean she was in _love_ with him! His dating preferences just bothered her because she knew him so well, and knew he could do so much better. And she did know him well, that was for sure. She'd been with him from the beginning, back in Ishbal, when they'd both had to come to grips with the fact that this great war was not great, not at all.

"Oh, damn…" he'd groaned one night, a blood-stained night that fell over a land reeking of decay and burned flesh and the never-ending screams of victims. "Oh damn…"

And she'd tried to comfort him, trying even though she knew that it would be all but impossible, "Please, sir, you should get some sleep."

"God damn…." he'd mumbled, not giving any sign that he'd even heard her. "God damn….why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I kill her…?"

"Because otherwise she would have killed you," Riza answered honestly. It was true- the young girl, who barely looked twelve, had lunged at them with a gun seemingly out of nowhere. "It was either her or you, sir."

Roy stared dully at the ground, his eyes filled with a kind of pain Riza had never seen in them before. "Then it should have been me…"

"Don't say that!" she'd half-shouted. Roy looked at her, shocked even in his despair by this sudden outburst from someone he'd come to recognize as very composed. "You shouldn't say that, sir…" she'd gone on, calmer. "You owe it to yourself and to the people who care about you not to say that."

"The people who care about me…" He smiled, a bitter, twisted smirk that was painful to see. "Those people…those people…are fools."

"None the less sir, they are there, and they do care about you. You won't stop the war by refusing to fight. You won't bring back the dead by dying yourself."

"Man, Hawkeye….."

He'd turned to look at her, the acidic grimace changed to a slight, faint, sad smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Man….it's a good thing you're so damn practical."

Practical….that certainly was what she was. She was _practical._ So _why_ was she hiding behind a research report, her heart pounding? Telling herself sternly that she was being as foolish as those women Roy dated, she picked up a pen and began to fill out a form off the never-ending pile of them. Usually, she had no trouble keeping focused- over time, she'd honed her already sharp mind into letting her fill out papers without really concentrating on what she was writing. Today, however, the trick was simply_ not_ working.

_It'd be a lot easier if the colonel wasn't staring, _she grumbled mentally. Because he was certainly staring. She glanced up at one point, expecting to see him sleeping, or flinging papers around, or having a staring contest with the wall, or pawing through that little black book of his…and instead finding him watching her, pinning her with that sharp gaze. Uncertain if he wanted something, she looked back at the paper in front of her- only to glance up a few minutes later and find him still staring. A couple of times, he cleared his throat as if he was going to say something--but he never did.

Feeling more confused then ever, and losing the battle to keep her hopes in check, Riza finished the form and moved on to another. _Let's see_….she glanced down it, then sighed. Another 'serious issue' that had nothing even remotely important to say. _It would probably be easier to just have Roy sign this and send it incomplete,_ she thought, _it's highly doubtful anyone would even notice._ Still…another quick glance up at the colonel told her that, at least in this case, she would rather just fill it out herself.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye."

His voice, ringing out of nowhere like that, startled her, but she looked up with an unruffled expression on her face none the less. "Yes, sir?"

"…."

He was still looking hard at her, and she felt herself flush slightly. What was he up to? He was quiet for so long, she began to wonder if he'd forgotten that he'd spoken. (It wouldn't be the first time.) "….Did you want something, sir?"

Still, he only looked at her without saying a word. "Sir…-"

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," he repeated. "Tell me something. What's your opinion on love?"

"L-Love, sir?" _What kind of question is that!_?

"Love." His voice was firm, and there was no sign of that teasing look in his eyes that usually appeared when he was joking around. "You have to have some kind of viewpoint on it, right?"

"Well, sir…" She hesitated. Why was he asking her this? "Sir….does this have something to do with work?"

"Nah, this is my personal curiosity about your personal opinions. So, come on, Hawkeye, let's hear it. What's your opinion on love?"

"Well…it's a very…_intense_ feeling…" she said slowly, uncertain as to what kind of answer he wanted. "It's very….important…I don't think it's found too often, though."

"Oh?" His eyebrows rose. "You don't think so? Sure seem to be a lot of people dating to me."

Oh, so that's what kind of question it was. Of course. She should have realized. For a minute, she'd thought…but, no, it was just him wanting to know if what he had with whatever girl he was with this week could be considered 'love'. Riza turned back to her work, her mind at ease…or so she told herself. After all, it was so much easier to believe that she was _satisfied_ with the colonel not asking her something different, rather then believing she was _disappointed_…

"Yes, sir, a lot of people do date. That doesn't mean it's love. For the most part, it's probably just lust on either side. I'd highly doubt if even a fraction of the people dating have any real feelings for their 'significant other.'"

"Oh really." His tone stayed neutral, and she was unable to see his eyes as he played with a paper-clip, but still….something about the way he spoke, to her well-tuned ears (which were by now so used to his voice that they could pick up any little change), still sounded off somehow… "So I guess a serial-dater would have trouble convincing a girl that he really felt something for her, huh?"

Riza couldn't help but get just slightly irritated. Alright, she got the point, he was having trouble convincing a girl to go out with him. But really, what did he expect, his reputation as a womanizer was known far and wide. Of course he'd have trouble getting a girl who was looking for 'true love' into bed.

"Yes sir, I'd say so. The girl would not be certain that his efforts really were truthful." Why did he look so annoyed at that? His efforts _weren't_ truthful. Riza was sure that by next week he'd have moved on completely. "She would worry that he was simply trying to use her." Which he pretty much was.

She picked up her pen and scribbled something across the top, _please see attached report_, picked up her stapler and fastened it to the top of a thick pamphlet, placed it aside for Havoc or Fury to mail later. She was aware of Roy's eyes still on her, but it no longer bothered her- he was simply asking for advice on girls from the only girl around. He did that sometimes, and she didn't really mind; she enjoyed helping him even if it _was_ for something as trivial as this.

"She would be afraid that he wasn't really concerned for her," she continued, evenly, figuring Roy'd want to know all the problems he was up against. "After all, sir, a man who dates so frequently must be aware that his motives will sometimes be called into question—"

"Dammit, Hawkeye!"

Colonel Mustang stood up, knocking his chair and a stack of papers over in the process. Riza stared at him, shocked, as he scowled and bent down to pick the chair up. Then he turned and looked at her again. His eyes were ablaze with an emotion she couldn't quite read…it was so powerful…_blinding_, almost….

"Just because a guy's dated before, doesn't mean he's not allowed to feel things for other people! Just because a man might mess around a lot, doesn't mean….doesn't mean…"

His voice was desperate now, rising rapidly in pitch….Riza could only sit there, stunned. She'd never seen him like this, so worked up…and the way he was looking at her….

The hope that had been simmering in her before now began to boil. Was it possible that he was about to…?

"It doesn't mean that he can't…." His expression was so urging, so pleading…Riza could feel her heart begin to race…was Roy Mustang really about to….? And if he did, would her answer really be….? When had this _happened?_! When had these troublesome, confusing, and above all_, forbidden_ feelings manifested?

Her eyes were locked on his….her heart thudded faster…Roy took one last, deep breath—

And then he laughed.

"Eh, forget it. Sorry about the mess, I dunno what I was thinking." She didn't like the quality of his laugh—it was too empty, too bitter. Something, she couldn't help but note, it hadn't sounded like since Ishbal.

"Seriously, though, I'm glad I got that out of the way." He made for the door, and Riza felt her confusion growing- wasn't he going to…? "Hope you don't mind if I cut out a little early today, Lieutenant, I got a date tonight. Hot as hell girl, great body, plus she's a blond, heh heh. Another girl falls for my charms, hah!" He grinned, proudly…

But it was certainly strange how the smirk didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Yeah, probably one of the hottest girls in the city….I've known her from way back, and let me tell you, she has one hell of a nice ass…anyway, I'm looking forward to it." Roy sounded nothing if not pleased with himself and his latest soon-to-be conquest.

He didn't seem to notice the expression on Riza's face.

Riza felt very…odd. She knew the colonel was saying something, but she couldn't figure out what. Oh yes, a date. Of course. It was Friday, after all, no surprise there. It was Friday, and he was going out with another good-looking woman whose bed he'd be in by the end of the night—the thought made her want to puke. He'd dated half the female population of the city, but he'd never so much as looked at her….she was the one woman he _wasn't_ interested in. He didn't care about her like that. He didn't care….

"Lieutenant…?"

Riza snapped out of it quickly, realizing for the first time that she'd been clenching her pen so hard that it had burst, with the ink now leaking out and dripping down her hand.

"Oh…yes?" She hurriedly cleaned her hand off, hoping Roy hadn't seen. "I'm sorry, did you say something, Colonel?"

"I was just asking if you wanted me to help pick up those papers…."

"Oh--no, sir, it's ok."

Riza knelt down on the floor and began picking up the files like a good subordinate. Because that was what she was. A subordinate. And she had been stupid, very stupid, to forget that. She could feel Roy's eyes boring into her back, and she wanted more then anything to scream at him to get out, go find his hot blond bitch and stare at her for a while…but of course she didn't.

"Hawkeye…" He sounded uncertain now, and she could picture his smile faltering and his eyes filling with concern. "Is everything—"

"Everything is fine, sir," she interrupted calmly, her voice as smooth as glass. She sensed rather then saw him pause by the door, and couldn't help, even now, but wonder why he didn't just leave like always…despite what had just happened, despite everything, she wondered why he was lingering, faint traces of hope drifting upwards once more…but, as she rose to put the files back on his desk, she heard the door shut behind her, heard him whistle as he made his way down the hallway, heard his footsteps vanish as he left, obviously not looking back. Why should he? He had a date.

Riza returned to her desk and sank into her chair. Why had she even thought that he would think of her like that? Why had she even bothered to _wonder_? It couldn't be, wouldn't be…

She sat very still, ignoring the mounds of work she still had to finish, trying desperately to convince herself that she didn't care. Colonel Mustang as a friend was more then enough. She could still honor him, still respect him as a friend. Of course she could. It was fine, really. She didn't care. Besides, it had been a stupid idea to even _consider_ that possibility. Why would the colonel be interested in her? Not that she wanted him to be…

And so, Riza Hawkeye sat there, and told herself over and over again how little Roy's romantic interests mattered to her, how little she cared…and tried very, very hard not to cry

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AN- yeah, yeah, i know-angsty. not my usual cup of tea, but...eh. i tried my best to keep the characters in character, but i'm not gonna lie, Riza was hard to write for, so be open-minded, please! also, i DID spell check this, but we all know how reliable mw spell check is. plus, i'm a BAAAAD speller. so feel free to point out any and all spelling mistakes! grammer, i was a bit loser with on purpose, but u can mention any glaring errors there, too. i'll update frequently, and as for story lenghth...well...all i can say right now is it's gonna be long. ok then, thanks for reading, and r+r, please! 

EDIT 4/15/06-- fixed up this chapter because i hated it. still hate it. gargh. it'll probably wind up getting redone about twenty times, knowing me. chances are i'll be redoing most of the chapters, actually, so yeah. expect to see a lot of these edits.


	2. Chapter 2

AN- wow! reviews already! and they were all nice ones, too! i wasnt expecting that...lol, anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed- you all rock! and anyone else who read but didnt review, thats cool too. i'm just glad people r reading this at all! next chapter's not that long, concidering, but i happen to like it, so...XD thanks again for reviewing!**

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**Rain**

Just when he thought nothing else could go wrong, it rained.

It rained with the intensity of a raging fire, causing in its wake results just as damaging, if not as visible. All around the colonel, people ran for cover. Ahead of him, a few children splashed about in rapidly-forming puddles. For a second, as he passed them, he envied their innocence.

He knew he should probably stop somewhere and wait out the storm, or at least try and find an umbrella, but he couldn't bring himself to. One, because the only places to stop at right now were bars, and considering his mood, he didn't trust himself in that setting at the moment. Besides….he figured that he deserved this. He deserved the rain hitting him. Equivalent Exchange was the law of the land, and this was his punishment. He would not have complained if he'd been struck by lighting.

How the hell had all this happened? He'd been picturing this day for a while now, and this wasn't at all how he'd planned it. Damn. But, planned or not, it had happened. The hardest part had been walking down the hallway, grinning at people as he passed as if nothing was wrong, when everything was. He'd left the building knowing that he'd just destroyed what chance he'd ever had of finding some peace in his chaotic life. Stepping out of the building, ignoring the salutes of the lower-ranked men that he passed, he scowled fiercely at nothing as he stepped into the street. Almost instantly, he felt little pin-pricks hit him. Turning his face to the sky, which had gone from light blue to charcoal grey, his scowl grew even deeper as he realized it was raining. Wonderful. Just _wonderful_. On top of everything else, it was _raining._ Roy hated the rain.

It made his alchemy useless, of course, but besides that, he felt it made him useless too, in a sense. On rainy days, it was if the whole world had given up, and was just letting itself be swept off into the abyss.

Some people actually liked rainy days…_she_ liked it when it rained, for one. She said she liked the way the world smelled after a good, hard rain, said that it gave her a feeling like the city's sins were being washed away along with its filth and dirt. He'd tried to see it that way, he really had, but it just didn't seem to work for him. He couldn't help but see it the opposite way- instead of washing away sins, rain brought them back, gave them fuel to keep growing and swelling. Rain was the enemy of fire, he believed, and as such, was the enemy of the Flame Alchemist. Not that he hated it because it challenged him; his ego wasn't as large as that. No, he hated the rain and its power to extinguish his flames because it left him powerless, vulnerable, both inside and out. It seeped in through his defenses, leaked passed the barriers he'd put up to protect himself from memories he didn't want and couldn't lose. It left subtle reminders- sure, your life is great _now_, but don't forget about _then_. It made his outlook on the world considerably gloomier. But the worst part of it was not merely that he felt the rain was his opponent…but that he felt his opponent was right.

Roy sincerely believed in the message each droplet brought him. Each with a message that was worded differently- one might say 'murderer', for instance, while another would simply smell of smoke- but that meant the same thing. The rain reminded him that he could not simply forget, that he could not simply bury his sins under the guise of following orders. No, it never failed to remind him of what he really was. _They all think you're a hero,_ it whispered, _but you're just a coward._ That was the message the rain brought him each time. And he listened, and he agreed.

No matter how great the challenge, it is considerably easier to face it knowing that you are right. Winning a battle when you agree with the opposing side is hard. Winning when you believe that you deserve to be defeated is harder. Winning when you want to be fighting against yourself, on the side you're fighting opposite, is almost impossible.

Usually, when it rained, he would try in advance to prepare himself, knowing as he did what would be coming his way later. His usual method was to skip out on work early, head straight to a bar and get rip-roaring, flat-on-his-ass drunk, pick up a woman- preferably the slutty blond type- and head straight for bed, so that, by making sure he would not be spending the night alone, he might be able to escape the fate he knew waited for him otherwise. Sometimes it worked….usually, it didn't.

It usually made him feel _worse_, as he laid next to a snoring woman he barely knew; on top of everything, his actions and the alcohol coursing through his system made it just that much harder to get through the night. And always, _always_, were the nightmares, the painful, blinding nightmares, bad on average nights, worse, far worse, when it rained. They were bad enough on rainy nights to cause him to jerk awake, gasping, instinctively reaching beside him for the one person that would never be there. He knew, deep down, that was why he always picked a blond on stormy nights. He knew exactly why…

Because when he was first wrenching himself awake after another visit to hell, it would look to his befuddled eyes like the person lying next to him was the person he wanted it to be- for a split second, anyway.

Roy never slept well on rainy nights.

As he slogged his way home, his mind kept jumping back to the cause of all this, the reason why, instead of laughing up at the rain, relishing in his new-found strength to fight the gloom, he was trudging home knowing only that his dreams tonight would be worse then ever. Especially since, tonight, he was not going to try and damper the effects at all. Oh, he'd most likely find a woman to sleep with, but she wouldn't be blond- he would rob himself of even that minor, split-second comfort. And he wouldn't get drunk, either, though he desperately wanted to; alcohol, while not having any effect on the nightmares, helped dull the jolt of pain he'd feel upon waking up and realizing it wasn't Riza sleeping beside him….helped numb this fresh pain that was, in some ways, worse that which it proceeded. But there'd be no drinking tonight.

Roy was determined to make himself suffer even more then he already was, to add insult to injury, fuel for the fire.

The rain seemed to smugly salute him as he passed.

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AN- thats all for this time around. i'll probably post again tomoro cause the next chapter's already finished. i wont always be that quick, but i always hated it when people whose stories i really liked just randomly stopped writing, so i promise not to do that. whee, ok, i'm done. r+r, of course!

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EDIT 4/16/06-- chapter has been redone. Not too many major changes, since it was shorter then most, but I'm really anal when it comes to having every tiny detail down.


	3. Chapter 3

AN- hello all! third chapter up and ready to go. it's my longest chapter so far, and my favorite, mainly 'cause Hughes is in it (and i kinda randomly changed the way i spelled Hughes from one chapter to the next, but o well!) and whenever Maes Hughes is in anything, it's funny. something i realized while writing this chapter, some future chapters may not be exactly 'child-friendly' in terms of words and sexual reffrences. i rated this T, but if i have any chapters that are a bit wilder, i'll warn first, just in case. ok, thats all for now...thanks to my reviewers, u guys really make my-otherwise amazingly boring-day!

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**disclaimer--**because the idea of a 17 year old fangirl owning a huge hit like FMA makes so much sence.

**Roy**

Really, it hadn't been entirely Roy's fault. What it was, really, was a giant mistake, the failing of Riza to be able to see through him the way she usually could, the failing of Roy to show her his true intentions. Really, if you wanted to place blame on someone, you would have to blame everyone, starting from Hughes and working your way on down. And you would have to start earlier that day, when Hughes had first burst into Mustang's office, only to find him making paper airplanes out of the Important Documents he was supposed to be signing. Being Hughes, he might not have noticed for a while, if a bad throw by Roy hadn't caught him right upside the head.

"Ow! Darn it, Roy, you have no sense of aim!"

"Relax, Hughes, it's only a paper airplane." Roy stretched, absently wondering if he could hit Hughes again when his guard was up.

"A paper airplane made out of official military documents! You do realize those things were not given to you so you could practice your flying skills. Which suck, by the way."

Roy shrugged. It was pretty obvious that the military's paperwork was not high on his list of priorities, colonel or not. "Eh, I have to do something to keep myself awake. Not to mention, my aim was fine until you came in here…." He smirked. "What do you think that means?"

"That you haven't had your Elysia fix today!"

"Wha…!" Roy cursed as Hughes, beaming, produced a large box crammed with pictures of his daughter.

"Look, look, Roy! She's gotten so much bigger then in the last pictures!"

"Hughes! You just showed me new pictures _yesterday!_ How much bigger could she possibly have gott—"

"And look!" Hughes didn't seem to notice Roy's eye twitching. "Look at her riding that tricycle! She's a regular speed-demon! Come on, Roy, isn't she just the cutest thing you've ever _seen_?" Hughes snickered. "Oh, wait, I forgot. To you the cutest person would be Riza—"

"Damn it, Hughes!" Roy slammed his hands down on the desk; Hughes didn't blink an eye. "I've already told you, don't go yelling that out loud!" Roy really regretted ever confiding in his best friend about how he was beginning to feel like his feelings for his first lieutenant were not exactly 'proper.' (They weren't G-rated any more, that was for sure.) Not like he had a choice, though. Hughes had that infuriating quality of being both a good eavesdropper, and extremely perceptive about the relationships between people. He'd been suspecting something was up for years, and he'd been bugging Roy about it for even longer. The only thing that he seemed as interested in as his family, was Roy's personal life. Roy had no idea why. Frankly, he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know why.

Plus, the day that Roy'd spilt his guts was also the day he found, opened, and drank an entire bottle of some nice, alcoholic substance in one sitting, just because.

"But _Royyy_, it's driving me nuts!" Hughes whined. "If you don't tell her soon, she'll find someone else!"

"Don't be stupid, Hughes." Roy knew better then to say 'so what' by now. He used to say that whenever Hughes informed him that time was running out, but lately…well…the last time he'd seen her talking to another man, he had a sudden urge to strangle him….and the man was Second Lieutenant Havoc, too. And they'd both been at work. And she'd been yelling at him for something. And there was absolutely nothing even slightly romantic going on between them. And….and….and it was just too damn obvious by now, at least to him and Hughes, that he was jealous of any guy who could hold Riza Hawkeye's attention for more then five seconds.

"Hey, you're the one being stupid. Riza's a gorgeous girl. Not as pretty as my Gracia, maybe, but then again, who is? The point is," he added hastily as Roy's eye began twitching again, "is that other people- other _guys_- are gonna start noticing her. Everyone who works with her already has. And sure, she ignores them, but I mean, do you really wanna risk losing her to some other dude?"

Roy sighed. Hughes already knew the answer to that. No, he didn't want to watch her go out with some other guy, no, he didn't want to have to keep watching from a distance, but…but he couldn't really help it. As he'd already explained to Hughes a dozen times, if not more, he didn't act the way he usually did when she was around. He had absolutely no problems picking up girls, usually- hell, he was infamous for the amount of girls he'd had over the years. Havoc still complained about the number of girlfriends Roy had stolen from him. Breida and Falman had been discussing building a shrine to him for a while now. Fury, the youngest of their little group, looked up to Roy like he was his role-model...which, in retrospect, was probably not the smartest choice of role-models he could have made. In fact, the only one under Roy's command whose opinion on his dating talents he didn't know….was Riza. He didn't think she cared one way or the other, though. At least, she never seemed to. And that was the problem right there.

He didn't know how she felt…about him. And, for some reason, his smooth one-liners and flirtatious glances just didn't _work_ right around her. The few times he'd actually gotten up the nerve to try them out, she'd shot at him. And she had good aim. Very good aim. Point being that Roy Mustang simply _didn't know_ _how_ to ask her out. He supposed it was because he actually had feelings for her.

"Besides, _Colonel_." Roy tried to focus on what Hughes was saying. "You were already the best man at my wedding, plus you're Elysia's godfather…when am I gonna get to be _your_ best man! Never, at this rate!"

"You know, it's funny, _Lieutenant Colonel_…. I never realized how much my personal life revolved around _you._"

"Hey, don't try pulling rank on me, mister, I'm not in your jurisdiction, remember?"

"Of course I do. So why don't you go back to whoever's jurisdiction you're _in_ and bother _them_ for a while!"

"No way, I'm not leaving until you agree to ask Riza out. I'm not getting any younger here, and neither are you!"

"…" Roy couldn't believe this. Here he was, a colonel, a famous alchemist, _and_ a war hero….and he was being black-mailed into asking his subordinate out by his crazy friend. Could today get any weirder?

Did he really even have to ask?

"Hey, don't give me that look, Roy. I'm doing this for your own good! Besides, I want that extra cash so I can buy Elysia some more toys."

Roy's head shot up. Extra cash? Why hadn't anyone told him?

"…Hughes, what 'extra cash' are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know," Hughes said off-handedly. "The bet money. Havoc and Breida'll both owe me 50 big ones if you ask her out today!" He grinned. "A hundred extra dollars, it's more then enough to buy my little angel that new—"

"_Focus_, will you?" Roy definitely did not like where this was going. "What bet are you talking about, and why does my asking Hawkeye out have anything to do with…Hughes. Please tell me you didn't bet on…"

"Hmm? Oh, you mean you didn't know? Funny, I though Havoc woulda spilled the beans a long time ago." He giggled. "Boy, you sure have been missing out on a lot of—hey, hey, hey, I was just kidding!" Hughes backed away from Roy, who was thisclose to snapping his gloved fingers and burning him to a crisp.

"Hughes. If you don't tell me what's going on, I swear I'll write up a new rule that bans people from bringing pictures of their families to work!"

Hughes looked absolutely horrified at the idea. "You…you wouldn't dare!"

"_Try_ me!" Hughes winced--Roy certainly _looked_ like he was serious.

"Buh…but you know I can't function without my darling Elysia and Gracia! I wouldn't be able to survive!" Roy didn't look all that concerned, frankly. "Ohh……fine! But I just want you to know that you are sadistic and mean and-"

"Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. Now what's the deal with this bet?"

"Eh, it's no big deal, really," shrugged Hughes. "Me, Havoc, and Breida just decided to bet on how long it would take you and Riza to go out. Those faithless idiots said that you wouldn't get the nerve up for at least another year, can you believe that?"

"You….what…?"

Hughes, misreading the look on Roy's face, nodded adamantly. "I know! How could they be so blind! But don't worry, buddy, I stuck up for you," he said proudly. "I bet them that not only would you ask her out today, but that the two of you would make home base by the end of the week! So make sure you lay on lots of that Mustang charm you're so famous for, I don't get my money if you two haven't done it by Sunday." Only Hughes could have made that sound so completely normal.

"……"

Maes smiled cluelessly. The poor guy had somehow convinced himself that Roy would not only not be mad, but that he would thank him for getting him with Riza. So, he was surprised when Roy just stood there.

"Um….Roy…are you ok…? Your eye's twitching….eyes aren't supposed to do that…Roy…?

Roy Mustang had never felt such a burning desire to kill someone before.

* * *

"God dammit…" Roy sighed, leaning back on his chair with his feet up on his desk. "I should've stayed home today." He gave his friend a dirty look. "And, hey, don't bleed on my carpet, I'd have to file out an expense report to replace it." 

"Gee, thanks for your concern," Hughes said angrily, "I'm so glad you're worried about my broken nose."

"Eh, your nose aint broken, just….bruised….a little….."

"It's been bleeding for five minutes! I'm gonna die from lack of blood!"

"Well, it's not my fault your bones break so easily."

"You _punched_ me!"

"I didn't _punch_ you, I just….tapped you….hard."

"You punched me!"

"You were _betting_ on my _sex life!_!"

"Ah-hah!" Hughes momentarily forgot his nose was still bleeding. "So you admit it!"

"Admit what?"

"That you punched me!"

"Give it a rest, wouldja!"

"I will not, you punched me! _Me!_ Your best friend--and pretty much only friend-- in the whole world! And all I did was—"

"Make bets on 'how far' I could get with my subordinate!"

"Oh, please," Hughes scoffed, "like you haven't been wondering that since you met her."

"That doesn't mean you can just go around making bets on the private lives of other people!"

"Well, ex-cuuse me, I didn't realize it was some big secret."

"_What_?_! How the hell could you not realize--"_

"Hellooo, earth to Roy Mustang!" Hughes rolled his eyes- how clueless could a person be "Everybody- and I do mean _everybody_- knows you have a thing for Miss Hawkeye! And you can thank me for that, of cour-…oops." He suddenly began wondering if he hadn't said just a _tad_ too much.

"Hughes…." Roy had a vein pulsing in his forehead, and he was also forcing a twisted-looking smirk, which was never a good sign, as he stood up. "When I told you about my feelings for Hawkeye, I didn't give you permission to tell the whole damn world!"

Hughes looked indignant. "I didn't tell the whole world!" he said defensively. "Just a few people."

Roy now had _two_ veins pulsing in his forehead. "I didn't tell you that you could tell _anyone!"_

"Oh, come on, I had to tell Havoc and Breida. Oh, and Fury and Falman, I mean, they _work_ with you, they deserve to know. Oh, and I told Armstrong. And the Elrics, but don't worry, I told Ed I'd make him sort out all my pictures of Elysia if he said anything. Actually, I had to tell that to Armstrong, too, the man wanted to plan your wedding..."

Roy groaned loudly. "No wonder that little twerp Fullmetal was snickering at me last time he came…I thought he was just happy that he'd grown an inch." He whirled on Maes, who was trying to hold in his laughter so his nose wouldn't start bleeding again. "Ok, out with it, Hughes, who else did you tell?"

"No one, really!" -Roy started to sigh with relief- "Oh, wait….I told my secretary. And Gracia. And the new recruits that just showed up…and the janitors…and some random guards I saw walking around…and Black Hayate…"

"You told her _dog?_?_"_

Hughes shrugged. "I dunno, it seemed like a pretty good idea at the time…" _Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._ "Uh…" He gave Roy a weird look, which was to be expected considering that the colonel was slamming his head against the wall. "….You do realize you're gonna lose brain cells if you do that." _Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. _"…Brain cells don't grow back, Roy."

"Please, Maes….just go away…."

"Not until you promise to ask out You-Know-Who!" Hughes sang out.

"…." Roy wanted to scream. And punch Hughes again. But he knew that if he screamed, someone might hear, and he couldn't reach Hughes from where he was standing. "You really aren't gonna give up, are you?"

"Nope!" he looked at Roy, more serious now. "Really, Mustang…you know as well as I do that you want to ask her. I'm just trying to help you out."

"I know, I know…"

Roy sat back down behind his desk and rested his head on his hands. He found himself thinking about Riza, and about how much he really _did_ want to go out with her. It was ironic, really….when he'd first joined the military, he'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't get attached to anyone. He'd joined the ranks of the state to recognize his own—admittedly rather hazy at the time—ambitions, not to make friends. Roy might have been the life of the party, but when it came down to it, there was no one he could really consider himself close to. And what was wrong with that? He didn't need _buddies_ to be a good soldier.

Then he'd met Maes, bumping into him in a crowded hallway, discovering in that moment someone who could go from cheerful to serious and back, as the situation called for it. Someone who was willing to be the backup man instead of the big hero. Someone you could trust. Roy's whole philosophy on life had changed when he met Hughes….and later it changed again, when he met someone else. When he met Riza.

Thank god.

Thank god he hadn't followed through with his pledge. Thank god they'd been there with him, especially Riza, who'd stayed by him even during the Ishbal Rebellion. Thank god she'd been right beside him, always knowing just what to say and when to say it…always knowing when he needed to rant, when he needed to be left alone, when he needed to be scolded like a child…always saying at exactly the right moment the words that would keep him from losing his mind and joining his victims in that blood-red graveyard that was Ishbal…Riza…

He looked up at Hughes, thoughtful. "Hughes…what's wrong with me?"

Hughes, who had gone back to rubbing his 'broken' nose, snorted. "I could read you the list, but then we'd be here the rest of the year."

"I'm serious. Something's wrong with me."

Hughes looked up. The colonel definitely wasn't joking. "Roy…"

"The only thing I ever cared about in a woman was her looks, but now…I mean, not that Hawkeye isn't hot, but…I don't know how to act around her," he continued. "It's like she's the only person who matters…you know what I mean," he added, rolling his eyes, as Maes looked pouty. "When I'm with her…" He searched for a way to put it that Hughes would understand…not that Hughes wasn't quick to grab onto things like this, but Roy wasn't sure how to explain it to himself, much less his best friend. "When I'm with her…."

And then, suddenly, he knew what to say.

"When I'm with her," he said quietly, "I don't feel like a piece of shit, like a murderer…I feel like maybe there's a chance at making it to heaven after all. It's total bullshit…but it's still true."

"…." Hughes simply nodded. He understood. He hadn't been in Ishbal itself; he'd switched over to a desk job so that his new girlfriend wouldn't worry about him. Looking at Roy directly after the conflict was over, he knew he'd made the right choice. He barely _recognized_ the usually-cocky Mustang afterwards. He'd been so quiet, so miserable…it had taken him so long to get even slightly back to normal…looking at him for the first time after the war had ended, Maes had thanked every god he'd ever heard of that he hadn't been there himself. But still…he understood.

He knew how scared he'd been (though he certainly hadn't said anything at the time) when he first saw that look in Roy's eyes, that look that pleaded for forgiveness and death…and he knew how grateful he'd been when he saw Riza reach down time and time again and lift--sometimes drag--Roy to his feet, both literally and figuratively. He knew in his heart from the moment he saw the two of them together, from the moment he saw how she alone could boss him around and help bring him out of his misery, that the two of them had _something_….something different.

Whether Riza was shoving the barrel of her gun into Roy's head to keep him from grabbing his own and turning it on himself, or sitting quietly next to him as he stared off at something Hughes was glad he couldn't see, he knew that the two of them had more then the typical superior/subordinate relationship. Hughes had decided from day one that he would do anything he could to keep the two of them together- even if he did have to act like an idiot sometimes. After all, it wasn't every day that you found a pretty, tough, selfless woman who was more then willing to put her life on the line for someone else…it wasn't every day that you found someone Roy Mustang could connect with, listen to, _love_…

Listening to his closest friend struggle to come to grips with all this, Hughes had to smile. It had taken that guy too damn long as it was.

"Listen," he told him sternly, "no ifs, ands, or buts, you are asking her out, and you are doing it tonight."

Roy looked up at him, and smiled wearily. "Alright…alright…if it'll get you off my back, then what the hell."

Hughes let out a whoop.

* * *

They'd spent the next half-hour discussing Roy's plan of action. Their plan was….well, they didn't have a plan. But they did have some ideas. Namely, at some point, Roy would have to go up and ask Riza to dinner. It was a good idea, really…all it needed was a way to ask her, what to say, how to say it, when to say it, what to wear, what to sound like, what to…well, so it had some holes. It was still a good idea. 

Hughes, being who he was, kept insisting that all Roy had to do was go up and ask her straight out, with that flirty little grin of his.

"Trust me," he said knowingly, "She'll flip for it. Women always do, right?"

Roy kept trying to tell him that this wasn't the same. Riza Hawkeye wasn't any old woman, she was…well, anyway, he definitely needed a new battle plan if he was gonna pull this one off. Towards the end, Hughes didn't even bother trying to help anymore- he found it much more enjoyable to make fun of Roy.

"I knew it. I always knew that one day, the great Roy Mustang would find himself struggling to ask a girl out! I knew that one day you'd fall head-over-heels for someone! You may have fooled all the others with that 'I am god' crud, but you can't fool me- heyy!" Roy had decided to throw a balled-up piece of paper at Hughes to shut him up. His main reasoning was that even if that didn't work, he could still say he'd hit Hughes with paper. "You jerk! Trying to break another bone, are you?"

"No, trying to get you to go away." He stretched, glancing at the clock sitting on the corner of his desk. "4:30…shouldn't you be in your own office by now? You know, working?"

"Hmph," Hughes snorted. "You're one to talk, you haven't even looked at that huge stack of papers over there."

"Aw shit!" Roy cursed. The last time he hadn't done any work, Riza'd scolded him for half an hour. Although, to be honest, it wasn't _that_ bad….he'd spent most of the time wondering what Riza would look like with her hair down…and in a miniskirt…actually, it'd been pretty damn enjoyable towards the end. But still. He didn't want to risk getting a bullet in the skull; he knew what Riza was like when pissed, and he didn't really feel like 'tempting fate'. Quickly, he grabbed a handful of papers and started scribbling his signature, over and over again, without reading whatever it was he was signing.

"Uhh….Roy?" Hughes held up a newly signed sheet, "According to this, you agree with the idea that the Fullmetal Alchemist is god and that you're a 'cheap-ass bastard.'"

"What?" Roy grabbed the sheet from him and growled at it. "Damn it, Ed must have sneaked this in here….that little runt!" He crumpled the offending paper into a ball and chucked it somewhere. Hughes shook his head and straightened up from his leaning position against Roy's desk.

"Jeez, try not to be so jumpy around _Riza,_ ok?" He grinned at his friend. "Now, remember, don't try to sound too desperate, or—"

"I don't believe this," Roy grumbled. "_You're_ giving _me_ advice on girls."

"Hey, hey, hey, who's the married man here, huh?" The colonel just smirked.

"Well, I better get back before they lock me outta my office again," Hughes decided, pointedly ignoring Roy's excited cheer. "Now, don't go chickening out, I want a full report when—"

"Yeah, yeah, I _heard_ you, Hughes. You can stop repeating yourself now."

"Well, ex_-cuuse_ me, Mr. Colonel. I was just making sure you didn't forget."

"Grr….how the hell could I forget, Hughes, we've been talking about it for the past _hour!_"

"Yeah, but with my luck you'll forget anyway."

"_Your_ luck? Remind me, Hughes, what does any of this have to do with you?"

"Oh, come on, you know how long I've been waiting! I mean, come on, how long's it been since you met her?"

"A while…" he answered, quieter. "I just didn't realize you cared so damn much."

Hughes shrugged a bit, smiling slightly. "Hell, _someone_ has to." He waved lazily and headed for the door. Roy put his head down on his desk, feeling like he could use a good nap after an hour of Maes Hughes.

"Oh, sorry, Lieutenant." Hughes's voice ringing out cheerfully, however, sent his head snapping back up.

_Oh, damn, he isn't talking to…_

"I didn't realize you were there."

…_Riza_!

Roy stood up quickly, his heart racing. How long had she been…?

"…are staying till closing, right?" Hughes's voice sailed into his ears.

_Oh shit! That son of a bitch, he's probably laughing and everything!_!

"I always do, sir," his subordinate's smooth voice drifted over, sounding bewildered.

_Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! I can't believe him!_

"Ok, good. I was just checking 'cause—"

"**_Hughes_**!" he yelled, panicked, "I'm sure you have a lot of work to do, so why don't you go _do_ it!"

"Fine, sir," -_damn that bastard, everything's a joke to him! -_ "I can see when I'm not wanted."

Footsteps went off down the hallway as Maes finally left, and Roy let out a huge sigh of relief- which promptly ended when Riza Hawkeye entered the room. _Oh damn_…

She walked over to his desk, carrying an armful of papers. Roy found that he couldn't take his eyes off her…the way she looked at him, the way she tilted her head slightly when she was listening to him, her voice when she spoke, her amber eyes…amber…funny, he'd never seen anyone with an eye color that distinct before. He'd always preferred blue eyes before, but now….

Oh, wait, she was saying something, _come on Roy, don't lose it now._ "Erm, yes, Lieutenant, did you get those forms?"

Oh god she smelled nice. What the hell kind of perfume did she wear!

He almost laughed- Hawkeye wear perfume? Nah, that was just her natural smell, probably…it was one hell of a nice smell, too. Hard to describe, but…nice.

She leaned over to put the papers on his desk, and he got a heavenly, all-too-brief whiff of her hair as a strand escaped from its tight bun and dangled loose in front of her face. Sliding it back into place, Riza didn't seem to notice the way he was staring at her, unable to take his eyes off her for even a second. It was hard to really make out the form of her body, the curves her slender figure took, in that shapeless military uniform, but even so…

_Oh, daamn…_

He was beginning to feel guilty, the thoughts running through his mind were so dirty. But he couldn't _help_ it…looking at her, he started to wonder how she would look if she was in a skirt instead of a uniform…a very skimpy skirt….or maybe no skirt at all…

He smacked his head on the desk to snap himself out of it- another few seconds of _that_ and he'd give himself a nosebleed. He tried to focus through the next few minutes, tried desperately to find some way to 'pop the question'….but the best he could come up with was, "You should let your hair down," with a meaningful glance at that beautiful golden crown of hair that he wanted to run his fingers through—_wham._ The desk sure was taking a beating today….not to mention his head. But he couldn't help it! She looked like the picture of perfection to Roy, and try as he might, he kept fading back into a pleasing daydream of the two of them alone together…in bed, perhaps….yes, definitely in bed….he could practically feel the touch of her skin against his…oh, crap, he wanted to slide his fingers through those strands of gold she called hair _so badly...wham._

_Look at me, _he moaned to himself._ Roy Mustang, the smooth ladies man, is acting like a school girl with a crush! Aah, Hughes, what have you gotten me into!_

Wait, wait…where was she going?

"The shooting range, sir, I'm due to train for the next half hour."

This was it! This was the moment he'd been waiting for! Time for him to turn on the charm, wax poetic, take her in his arms, and…well, considering it was Riza he was drooling at, it would probably make more sense just to ask her; he doubted she was the romantic sort. But, either way, the moment of truth had arrived, and so he asked:

"Well, on your way back, can you grab me a cup of coffee?"

* * *

It had all gone downhill from there. He might have been able to laugh it off, to move past it and try again, if it wasn't for the fact that everything kind of crashed to a halt before he really even realized what was happening. How could everything just…_dissolve_ like that? 

All he'd done, truthfully, was ask her a simple question. Sure, it was a bit vague, but he was confident that he'd be able to swing it back around to asking her out- once he got started, he figured, he'd have no trouble getting where he wanted to go…right?

Wrong. He hadn't been able to make her see what he was really asking, not even close. Not that he blamed her, not at all- he shouldn't have been so damn hard to read. After all, whose fault was it that, instead of understanding that he was trying to ask her what she felt about _him_, Riza thought he was just asking for general romantic advice? It wasn't _her_ fault that he'd made it sound like he was trying to figure out a way to ask out a girl- a _different_ girl It wasn't her fault at all.

Unfortunately for both of them, he'd been so caught up in it all, that when she began to comment on how serial-daters were hard to trust, harder to fall in love with, he assumed she was talking about him. Looking back, he wanted to hit himself for being so stupid- why had he just naturally accepted that? Why hadn't he noticed how confused she was? Why the hell had he been so _vague?_?

He'd been so uncharacteristically nervous, that he hadn't been able to really focus on what she was saying. _She must know what I mean,_ he'd thought, dumbly, _but she's not saying yes!_ If only he'd realized the confusion…but he hadn't, and scarcely before he knew it, he was yelling at her, desperately, trying to find some way, any way, out of this. And when she had just stared at him, he had assumed she was turning him down. It was so hard to read the look in her eyes….he thought he was being rejected…and he didn't deal well with rejection.

So, being the brainless idiot he was, he thought with a bitter laugh later on, he'd gone and done the only thing he could possibly do to really ruin his chances—he'd made up some crappy story about him having a date. A _date._ With _another woman_. _How _could he have been that _dumb?_!

_She'll have to get jealous,_ he'd pleaded silently, _if I could only just see her get the tiniest bit jealous—if she'll just act interested at **all**, then I'll be able to ask her!_

His momentary loss of mind was no excuse for him forgetting that she never showed her emotions. His stupidity was no reason for him to decide that she didn't care, simply because she didn't show it on her face. And towards the end, when he'd come to the agonizing conclusion that she really _didn't_ care--however wrong that conclusion had been, it was still as raw and aching as an open wound--he'd simply headed for the door, laughing to save face, not because he found humor in any of this. How on earth could he have been amused by this fiasco? Laughing had been the _last_ thing he'd wanted to do. But Roy's mind was, it seemed, on permanent vacation…

He'd tried one final time to fix things, to keep everything from crumbling around him, but it hadn't worked. Pausing by the door, he'd tried to keep his voice casual as he asked her if she wanted any help picking papers up—and when she had said no, still so calm, he had taken that as one final _rejection_, and had left her there, blind to the pain in her voice, to the way her shoulders jerked when she answered. She always had been good at hiding what she felt…

He thought Riza had rejected him, when in reality she hadn't. Was that mistake any more foolish then her thinking he didn't care?

Neither one realized that they were both desperate for each other…it was deadly irony at its greatest. At its worst.

Roy told himself dully, _of course she wouldn't want to. Why would she? She's not like the other girls I've gone out with, she knows what really happened back in Ishbal. She knows how black my soul is._ He felt a fresh, new wave of self-loathing wash over him; his crimes had cost him everything, even the girl that he loved.

(And at the same time, Riza was trying to tell herself how crazy it'd been to hope that _he_ liked _her_- he was her commanding officer, not her lover. These things just didn't happen.)

There had been stupidity on both sides, whether it was Riza keeping quiet as her heart broke, or Roy grinning blindly at everyone he passed in the halls. There had been stupidity, and there had been fear, and it all resulted in Roy stumbling home through the driving rain, hating himself more then ever and wishing he could just drop where he was and let the rain and dirt and smog of the city bury him.

But he didn't…his feet kept going, one step after another, just like back in Ishbal, when he'd wanted nothing more then to sit and let the blood on his hands condemn him. But he'd kept going…because she was there to make sure he did. But now….who was there now to force him on? No one…

He couldn't understand what kept his body moving. Oh well, he didn't deserve a quick end anyway. He didn't deserve a lot of things. He didn't deserve _her._

_And to think_, he thought with a mirthless laugh, a laugh that reeked of bitter, quiet, empty despair, _and to think I thought I might have a chance at heaven._

He kicked at a rock in his path, watching it dully as it tumbled into the overflowing gutter, the world around him grey. Heaven? Hah. He'd be lucky if he made hell.

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AN- sigh, yes, it ended on a sad note AGAIN. most, if not all, of the chapters will untill the end. sorry! lol. also, a friend mentioned how suicidal roy turns out in a lot of these chapters, which wasnt really my intention. i'd fix it, but i'm not in the mood. plus, i'm mad at roy cause of him acting like a total jackass to riza in last saterday's episode. (seriously, i wanted to reach into the tv and slap him)so i dont wanna make him any happier. XD yes, i am getting way too into this...heh heh heh...anyway, thanks for reading, and dont forget to review! 

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EDIT 05/21/06--not too many changes here, but i added a couple paragraphs and attempted to clean up the last section, which could still use some work. oh well. 'least it makes sence now.


	4. Chapter 4

AN- **Mokie and Moofie:** thanks for all the help grammer/spellingwise! yeah, i know Hughes's name is spelled wrong, but i started spelling it correctly midway thru, and i was too lazy to go back an fix it XD. an' the lack of space in thisclose was intentional, to show how close Hughes was to being charboiled. i had NO IDEA how what to do capilizationwise for Lieutenant Colonal, so, thanks alot for the tip!

**tracyCoder:** i know! what kinda jerk yells at someone 'cause they got hit with a rock! plus, he was just being stupid; forgive me if i'm wrong, but isnt he already guilt-ridden enough 'cause of the war in Ishbal? so why is he doing the same thing now? meh, i dunno...lol, i'm done ranting now, thanks for reveiwing!

Hi again to everyone else! this chapter's shortish, but dont get used to that...i'm almost donewith chapter 7, and it's already 13 mw pages. ;; sorry 'bout that. this chapter probably requires the most amount of imagination, 'cause of something that happens at the end that i'm not sure stays 'in-character'. my friend says it does, so...well, i guess you'll have to see for yourself. ciao!**

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**disclaimer-- **if i said i owned fma, i wonder what would happen...

**The Emptiness of Stone**

Riza paused at the door to the office and surveyed it quickly, her mouth tightening as her eyes swept over her superior's desk. Usually on Fridays, when he left before her, she'd clean some of the mess off his desk for him—nothing major, just straighten things up a bit so that he didn't get buried under a mountain of overdue paperwork. She wasn't sure if he ever noticed, though. He never said anything.

No, she decided now, he didn't notice. There was a lot he didn't notice.

She looked from her desk, which was, of course, spotless, to Roy's, which was covered with piles of paper stacked up high. She wondered for a split second if she should clean some up some of the clutter…but then she turned away, lips pressed together and stomach clenching painfully. He could clean up his own messes from now on.

Moving back over to her desk, she opened the bottom drawer to check its contents, something she did every night, as well as every morning when she first came in. A quick glance told her that everything was still there- two pistols, a smaller hand-gun, and plenty of ammunition. Her rifle was in the drawer above, along with its extra cartridges. Locking the bottem drawer securely, she then checked to make sure that her third pistol was still in its holster, and that the holster was still firmly set around her waist. A fourth gun rested in one of the pockets of her uniform. She also reached up and tapped the clip that held her hair up; far from a simple accessory, this hairclip held a small blade concealed inside, which could be quickly released if necessary. That was more of a security blanket for her, though; in all her years in the military she'd never had to use it. She just liked having it there, in the off chance that she ran out of bullets. Not even Roy knew she had it. _Everyone_ knew that she never went anywhere without a gun within arm's reach- she had pledged to serve the colonel, and she was determined to never let her guard down, not even for a second. Let others scoff at it and call her obsessed, she didn't care what they thought. She didn't care that some of the higher-ups didn't like her 'babysitting' a famous alchemist. She was loyal, sure—

But to Roy.

She wouldn't hesitate to fight her fellow military soldiers if it meant saving him. If carrying around a gun was what she had to do, then so be it. Better that then the alternative, which was being unarmed when disaster struck. It only took a second for madness to win over sanity--her years in Ishbal had taught her that much.

Riza sighed. She didn't want to think about Roy right now. She knew he was grateful for the protection she gave him…even though he always complained, said he didn't need a bodyguard, and even if he did, that wasn't her job…but he was still grateful…wasn't he?

She felt her stomach clench again—all this self-doubt was making her feel even more out of sorts. Riza Hawkeye just wasn't the type of person to _worry_ like this. She wasn't that…._insecure_. And yet, here she was…god, the way the colonel distorted her mind. It was enough to drive her _insane_…

She finally left the office, locking the door behind her. As she walked down the hallway, she prayed silently that she wouldn't run into anyone. It was pretty late, after all, so there was a good chance that no one would be left but her…she'd probably be lucky and get out of there without having to deal with other soldiers. Which was good, because at the moment, she didn't think she could stand to face anyone…not right now, not with her feeling so…so numb inside. So empty, so numb…

_Amazing,_ she mused with an acrid little smile, _before today, I never knew there was a feeling worse then agonizing pain…_except that this _was_ agonizing pain, but of a different kind. It was more secretive, more hidden…it felt as if she had been hollowed out inside, but was somehow still breathing.

_Please don't let me run into anyone_…

"Isn't she so _cuuute!_! And look at this picture! See! Her bathing suit has little ruffles on the bottem! Awa, look, there's me helping her build a sand castle. Hee hee, that was just the best vacation ever. Ooh, and look at _this_ picture here, see how happy she is?"

_Damn!_ Riza stopped in her tracks. _Of all the people to run into, it just had to be…_

Hughes grinned at the young junior officer beside him. The kid looked like he was barely out of high school, especially now, with his chin trembling like that. Obviously he hadn't yet developed the sense that all the more advanced officers had, what they dubbed 'Hughes radar'.

(Basically, everyone who'd been at Central for more then a week developed the power to sense Hughes coming and duck for cover. It wasn't a hundred percent accurate, but those working at Central also developed another talent- within two weeks, a new recruit would know the location of all the broom closets, unused rooms, and desks large enough to hide under in the building. Ducking into a bathroom to avoid him was no good-he'd just follow you in there. Literally. Whether you were a boy or girl. (It was something that'd gotten him slapped many times.) No, the only really effective way to avoid having to stare at his never-ending supply of pictures was to hide. Unfortunately, this lack of available people to rant to meant that whenever he _did_ catch someone, he had that many more pictures to show. )

"Look, see this one? See how adorable she is? Like a goddess or an angel from heaven!"

"S-Sir…" The junior officer made a weak effort to get away, something that even seasoned veterans like Roy Mustang had trouble accomplishing. "P-Please…I really have to get home…"

"Nonsense, you have time for one more box of pictures. Now, in this one…"

"But sir, I don't even _know_ you!"

"Oh really? Well, I'm Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes….and this is my darling daughter Elysia! Isn't she great! And you should see my wife, hottest gal on the planet!"

At the word 'wife', Riza's clenching fists reminded her that there was a reason she was trying to sneak out unnoticed. She quickly and quietly turned to go back the way she came, but…

"Hey, Lieutenant Hawkeye! Hey, wait up!"

_Damn…!_

"Hey!" Hughes shoved the box of photos at the junior officer. "Hold these for a sec, would you?"-the kid tried not to topple over- "I have to go talk to someone."

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you—"

"But don't worry, I'll be right back with more pictures!"

"Oh nooo…" Hughes turned and ran to catch up with Riza, leaving the poor junior officer spazing out in the background.

What Riza really wanted to do was to keep walking, but Hughes _did_ outrank her, and besides, it was impossible to escape him once he caught you. So, she turned back and waited for him to catch up. When he did, she nodded towards the still-crying kid behind them with a slight smile- or what passed as a smile by Riza's strict standards. "Manage to catch another one, did you?"

Hughes laughed easily. "Yup. Can you believe there are thirty new recruits this month? Thirty! And they're all right out of grade school, too; they're practically infants."

"Yes, it must be very tiring work to have to gather intelligence information on all of the new recruits when there are so many of them…"

Hughes, who was the commander of the military's intelligence network, looked at her, confused. "I'm not talking about _that_," he scoffed. "There's so many new people to show my pictures of Elysia to!"

"…." Riza sighed, with a sweat drop. "With all due respect, sir, I wasn't aware that the military paid you to show off pictures of your family."

"Hmmph, you're getting as bad as Roy, Lieutenant." Hughes suddenly beamed. "Speaking of that, where is that little rascal?"

"…" If Hughes noticed Riza's discomfort, he didn't let on. "I wouldn't know, sir," she said tightly, _although I have some ideas…you might want to check the houses of Central's biggest whores—_

No. That wasn't fair. She couldn't blame the women he went out with…she couldn't even blame _him_. He'd made her no promises, he'd never said that he had feelings for her. She was being unreasonable, putting the blame on Roy when she was the one who'd overstepped her boundaries as 1st Lieutenant. Fraternization between officers was strictly forbidden, she knew that as well as he did. It was her fault she was so miserable, not his…

Hughes was looking at her, confused. "Riza…?"

She blinked, startled out of her reverie by the sound of her first name. Then again, it wasn't too surprising-Hughes was extremely informal. "Yes sir?"

"You really don't know where Roy is…?" He peered at her doubtfully, his brows furrowed. Riza felt annoyance bubbling in her chest. Why, was she not even allowed to walk down the damn hallway without _him_?

_Calm down, _she told herself wearily, tired of the headaches all this was causing. _You know the Lieutenant Colonel's not saying that. This is why it's better that you **didn't** have a serious relationship with the colonel even if the opportunity did come up. You wouldn't be able to handle it. It's a good thing the colonel isn't as stupid as you're acting…_

"No, sir, he left early."

"Left early…? But, why would he….wait, I get it." Hughes nodded knowingly. "He probably left first so it wouldn't be suspicious. Darn that no-fraternization policy, it ruins all the fun! Oh well…" He winked at her. "Oh, and you don't have to be so cautious around me, Lieutenant, Roy already told me—"

Riza stopped him with a Look. She didn't know where he was going with this, and what's more, she didn't _want_ to know. She'd been too curious for her own good last time, and look at what happened. A workday spent wasted on silly thoughts like some preteen with a crush. If it involved a potentially dangerous situation, then certainly she would step in, but when it came down to the colonel's personal life, she really didn't care…hell, she really couldn't _afford_ to care!

"Actually, the colonel left some time ago," she said coolly, her voice emotionless. "He said he had a date to prepare for."

"A _date?"_ Hughes stared at her, eyes widening with…was that alarm? Why? What was there to be alarmed about? "But he couldn't have….why would he….damn it, he must have chickened out….listen, Riza, are you absolutely sure that's where he went?"

_Absolutely sure?_ She laughed inside, bitterly. Yes, she was 'absolutely sure.' The colonel certainly hadn't left any doubts about that.

"Yes sir," she answered quietly, her voice surprising even her with its lack of feeling. "As per usual, it being Friday and all." Said so calmly, so evenly, as if she really didn't care…as if she really was made of stone inside, instead of flesh and blood, like everyone said…

Yes, that was what everyone thought she was made out of, stone…everyone, from Armstrong to Havoc to…Roy…abruptly, she felt her eyes fill with tears. Hot anger and embarrassment flooded through her--Riza Hawkeye, _crying?_ What the hell was there to _cry_ about? But even as she scolded herself, she knew the answer. For a while, she'd really felt as if Roy had seen her as what she really was. For a while, she'd really thought that he knew that she wasn't all hard rock inside, that there was an empty space inside of her that needed filling. For a while, she'd thought he'd cared…

_Well, whose fault is it that he doesn't really know you? _she demanded of herself_. It's not the colonel's fault that you always act so formal around him. It's not his fault you're so cold. He's got no call to have any concern for you other then as a commanding officer dealing with his subordinates. You knew from the minute you entered the military to expect that. Why should it suddenly be so different? _

She could feel hot tears pushing at her eyelids, begging to be set free, but she'd be damned if she was going to let them…

_Stop it, _she told herself desperately,_ you're being silly. There's nothing to cry over…nothing to cry over at all…_

And then, she lost the battle and the tears began to fall down her cheeks. Hughes noticed, of course, and moved to comfort her, his eyes full of concern. But…

But Riza wouldn't let him; she put one hand up to stop him, the other clamped in front of her eyes as if she could hide the fact that she was sobbing. She was aware of nothing but the shame and embarrassment that were slowly filling her, and yet somehow still leaving the poisonous emptiness untouched…damn it, it wasn't supposed to be this way, she wasn't supposed to _act_ this way!

_Stop it, stop it_, she pleaded with herself….but she couldn't stop, couldn't control the tears falling down her face or her body jerking as she cried. She couldn't stop…because it wasn't true, what everyone said. She wasn't made of stone inside, but flesh and blood just like everyone else…she had a heart, had a soul, and both had been just as shattered and destroyed as if they'd been ripped out of her and stepped on.

"Riza…" Hughes was stunned beyond words. He had never seen Riza Hawkeye like this, no one ever had. "Riza, don't…"

But she pushed past him and took off running down the hallway, one arm still blocking her eyes from view.

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AN- so that's the end of that. like i said above, i'm not sure if riza's crying is really in character--i tried to make it as realistic for her as possible. i'm trying to plan some action into this somewhere, but as of now only the last few chapters'll really have any good bloodshed. however, there's a bunch of flashbacks that are violent...lol, i'm a strange soul. R+R, people! 

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EDIT 6/10/06-- took me a while, but i finally fixed up this chapter a bit. yay. thanks to all who're still reading this so many months after the fact! (don't worry, it gets better as it goes along)


	5. Chapter 5

**AN- unexpection-** awwa, that seriously sucks. guys can be such morons sometimes! a friend of mine's going thru sorta the same thing, and its really fustraiting cause there's nothing you can do, really. but then, u obviously know how sucky it feels T.T as an Expert Rambler myself, i know how sometimes you just gotta rant, so feel free to rant away any time! 

hi again to everyone. next chapter's pretty long, but i like it, 'specially the last few pages. and before anyone says anything--no, i dont know what i was smoking when i came up with the character for Roy's date. (u'll see, trust me XD). she's probably the most annoying character i've ever done. and that's saying something. i mean, _i _want to shoot her, and i created her! she's a huge steryotype, so...not to mention, she gets even worse next chaper, tho, so there's something to look foward to. XD the sad thing is, i know people who are exactly like her...i hate my town...

oh, one last thing--this chapter's by no means risque enough to be rated M, but there are a few parts that deal with serious subject matter, and the word 'sex' does get used once r twice. GASP!**

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Disclamer-**

no, i dont own Fullmetal Alchemist. if i DID, then the anime would be never-ending, and there'd be Royai in every episode! but i dont. meh. 

**Laments**

"_Bark bark bark!"_

Riza could hear Black Hayate whining eagerly from the other side of her apartment door. The sound of his toenails scrapping against the door was a familiar, soothing one by now, even more so considering how anxious Riza was to just get inside and _stay_ there for a while. After fishing out her key, she unlocked the door and hurried inside, closing it behind her. Black Hayate barked even louder, excited as always to see his master home again. He nudged up against her legs, begging to be petted. Somehow, it was as if he knew Riza was upset; he was even more affectionate then usual, licking her everywhere he could reach. Even as depressed as she was, Riza had to smile. She bent down and stroked him behind the ears, and he growled happily in reply.

"Well...looks like someone wants to be fed," she commented quietly. Black Hayate licked her hand in reply.

Riza shrugged off her coat and hung it up, leaving her still-dripping umbrella by the door. For no reason whatsoever, she suddenly remembered that Roy hadn't taken an umbrella with him when he'd left the office before.

_That isn't good_…_he always gets moody when he has to walk home in the rain, plus it isn't safe for him to be outside alone and unable to use his alchemy…hopefully he managed to find one— _

She stopped, and shook her head. What was she _doing?_ As her dog scampered around her feet, she tried not to let herself think about the colonel. But--it wasn't that easy, considering half her life was spent making sure he was ok. _I can still think about him,_ she tried to tell herself. _Honestly, I'm not going to stop supporting just because…_just because what? Just because her foolish dreams were just that- dreams?

_That's it, _she decided firmly._ Enough of this nonsense. It's bad enough that I actually cried--in front of the Lieutenant Colonel! I'm not going to think about this any longer. It's too foolish a problem to let it come between me and my job. The colonel still needs me, that hasn't changed a bit._

With said thought in mind, she stalked past Hayate into the bedroom, changing quickly out of her uniform and into a simple button-up white shirt and a brown skirt that fell past her knees. Leaving her hair in its bun, she unbuckled her gun holster and slid the gun out. She left it resting on her nightstand, within easy reach should the situation arise. Even at home, Riza refused to allow herself to be caught unaware.

Moving out of the bedroom, she was met at the door by Black Hayate, who was whining even louder now.

"All right, I know. You want to be fed, right?" The dog yipped happily in reply, darting towards the kitchen as if he understood her.

Riza paused a moment longer, glancing around her as if seeing everything for the first time. The apartment was small, but cozy, with everything looking very neat and organized. There was nothing spilled out on the floor or lying where it didn't belong. The comfortable place fully hid the fact that its owner was a military soldier who had at least one gun loaded and ready for action in every room. Riza had never bothered much with decorating- to her, it was a waste of time and money to make a room look nicer then it really was. However, as sparingly furnished as the place was, it still gave off an aura of being lived in; it was warm and inviting despite the lack of décor. There were several large windows in the kitchen that gave off light- that is, when it was nice out, unlike today. The living room walls were lined with shelves loaded with books of every type and author, from historical fiction to books on fighting techniques. There were even a few romance novels- her guilty pleasure, of a kind- hidden amongst the large, leather-bound research journals and colorfully-covered novels. Every book had been read at least once, but they were all still in excellent condition, without any bent pages or food stains. It was certainly a nice place to live…and yet…

As Riza looked around now, she realized that at the same time, it was a lonely place, too.

"_Bark bark!_!_ Bark_!_!" _Hayate was back, scampering back and forth in front of her, impatiently.

"Yes, I know, I'm going to feed you right now. Come on." She motioned for him to follow her, which he did willingly. As she passed by the mirror in the hall, she got a glimpse of herself- red, blotchy eyes and a pale face. Pressing her lips together edgily, she stalked past without stopping. How stupid she had been…

She reached the fridge and pulled it open, to the thrilled barks of Hayate. Pulling out a leftover chicken leg, she tossed it neatly into his bowl, and he promptly scurried over and began to gnaw at it. For herself, she reached in and chose a casserole, one that she didn't quite remember making. It was some kind of meat in some kind of sauce, not very appetizing-looking, frankly. Nevertheless, she popped it in the oven and set the timer for five minutes. Sitting down at the table to wait, it popped into her head that she _hadn't,_ in fact, made the casserole at all.

"It was that woman from the apartment downstairs," she thought, "The one who's always giving me things like this." Remembering where the casserole had come from, though, only sunk her spirits even lower. The woman in question was an elderly lady who lived alone in an apartment that always smelled dusty, like it hadn't been aired out or used very much lately. The one time Riza'd actually been close enough to see inside, it struck her how dark, damp, and gloomy the place was, what with the ragged furniture and the heavy, cloying, mothbally smell that clung to everything. She had, as far as Riza knew, no friends or family, and she wasn't married. She lived off government welfare checks, and spent her days parked in front of the window watching other people with other concerns hurry by. She was constantly cooking, though there was no one to eat what she made but her, and she enjoyed giving some of the leftovers to Riza, who sometimes saw her as she left for work in the morning.

"Eh, you, pretty little girl," she'd call out in a shaky, dry-as-dust voice. "C'mere. I've got somethin' for you." And Riza, far too polite by nature to deny this woman what was probably her only human contact for the day, would accept her gifts graciously, feeling guilty at the look of delight that would appear in the old woman's milky eyes. Riza knew no one else ever spoke to her. She knew that no one else really knew she was there, and that they would not have cared had they known. She knew that when this woman died, no one would mourn.

The timer beeped, and Riza got up and carefully slid the casserole dish out of the oven, placing it on the table and stirring the contents. It didn't look any tastier cooked, she mused. The meat had gone from grey to brown, and the sauce it was floating in now looked whitish, but otherwise it still looked like it had when she'd first taken it out…in other words, it looked pretty disgusting.

Never one to waste food, she went and got a plate and fork anyway, and served herself, leaving the leftovers on the table. For a few minutes, she sat in silence, picking at the ugly lump on her plate reluctantly. She realized now that she wasn't all that hungry any more, really. But she continued to stir the mess around with her fork, trying to work up enough of an appetite to actually take a bite.

For a long while, there was only quiet. Black Hayate, having finished devouring his supper, had padded into the other room, leaving Riza quite alone. She paused, and listened. There were the distant sounds of cars honking from outside, and the faint ticking of the clock hanging above her on the wall. A steady _drip-drip-drip_ came from the kitchen faucet, which leaked slightly. She could hear Hayate growling at something-probably his shadow- in the other room. And that was all. No one sat across from her; no one was there to talk to even if she'd been in the mood for senseless conversation, which she wasn't. There was only her.

It was always like this, she knew. She very rarely went out with friends, and she never invited anyone over. None of her coworkers had ever seen her apartment. Night after night, she sat alone and ate when she wasn't hungry, simply to keep the routine going. No one ever asked her out anymore, she never went on dates--though that was, in all honesty, more of her own fault. She certainly had been _asked_ more then a few times, but she always turned the askers down. She wasn't really sure why.

Maybe it had something to do with the way they all looked at her, seeing a pretty face and not much else. Maybe it was the way the lower-ranked soldiers acted as if they deserved a promotion for treating her to dinner, or the way the new recruits stared at her, their eyes worshipping, when she went to the shooting range for target practice. Maybe it was because she wasn't the type of person to go out on a meaningless date with someone she had no feelings for whatsoever. Or maybe…maybe it was because she knew, deep inside, that there was only one man whose invitation she really wanted.

Whatever the reason, sooner or later her admirers got the hint. Word spread that she was too cold and unfeeling to need human companionship, that she was something to whisper about, but never face. She still wasn't sure who the first person was who'd said, none too discreetly, that she disliked people in general and would rather be left alone. _It isn't true,_ she sometimes wanted to protest--she didn't hate people, just those people who had nothing of interest to say. Given the chance to get to know her better, anyone could see that, couldn't they?

The colonel saw it, she was at the very least certain of that. He always snickered when the two of them would pass a young man in the hallway who was staring at her, his eyes idolizing and huge with awe. He liked to tease her about that. In fact, sometimes he'd deliberately bring it up, just to see her flush.

"Say, Lieutenant," he'd grin, "That new recruit with the bad haircut just passed by the office for the sixth time today. Why don't you go out and let him bow down to you already, before the poor kid dies of longing?"

Riza would always just look back down at her work, knowing full well that her cheeks were red. And when the colonel saw that, as he always did, he'd grin even wider, proud that he alone could get to her, and she'd blush all the harder. Usually she wound up shooting at him, but he always said it was worth it, with that infamous little smirk of his.

His reaction, she had noticed, was quite different when it was an older man who was trying to catch her eye. With the younger recruits, who idol-worshiped her in groups, he'd laugh, but when the man vying for her attention actually had a chance- at least in Roy Mustang's mind- he would glare and mutter about distractions. Since Roy was a bit of a distraction himself, Riza knew that couldn't be the reason why he got so grumpy and uptight. For a while, she'd thought it might have been jealousy…after tonight, she knew that was just her imagination, like so many other things she'd dreamt up.

Riza sighed and put her fork down. The blob of meat remained untouched. Outside, the rain had faded to a steady drizzle, shrouding the city in a blanket of mist. Black Hayate wandered back in and trotted up to her, making soft whimpering sounds as if he was trying to comfort her. She smiled slightly and reached down to stroke him. Tonight's dinner had been exactly like all the dinners before it, and probably like all the dinners to come.

"Is this it?" she wondered aloud. "Is this everything?"_ Am I going to wind up like that old woman downstairs? Working diligently until I retire, and then spending the rest of my life rotting away at home? _

She looked down at her plate, watching the grease from the sauce congeal as it grew cold. Life in the military was never boring, to be sure, but Riza didn't spend every minute on duty. Although she cherished her solitude the way others pined for riches, right now she wanted nothing more then to have someone to talk to. And the only person she ever talked to freely- more or less- was the colonel. True, their conversations had to stay within the boundaries of work, but still….better then sitting here wondering what else there could possibly be to life.

Black Hayate looked up at her, and then laid his head on her lap, which brought another thin smile to her face.

"Come on, then. I'll take you out before the rain picks up again."

She got up to get the leash, getting a glimpse of the clock in the process.

_6:30_…_I wonder what the colonel's doing now…?_

The thought crossed her mind before she could control it. Resolutely, she kneeled down and fastened the collar around Hayate's neck. Who cared what he was doing? Who really cared…

* * *

The wind howled and tried to pluck the umbrella from Riza's cold hands. She shivered and looked around for Hayate. He was still sniffing at a tree, seemingly unaware of the fact that the rain had begun to pick up again. 

"Come on…" she muttered, waiting impatiently for him to finish. The park they were in was only a few minutes away from the apartment, but the storm had gotten worse since they'd left, and Riza was more then ready to return. Finally, Black Hayate chose a spot and did his business, and then trotted up to her, soaking wet.

"Well, that's what you get for taking so long," she told him in response to the 'oh-woe-is-me' look he was giving her. "If you had hurried, we might have been home by now. As it is, you'll just have to survive being wet a little longer." Recognizing the sternness in his master's voice, the dog obediently turned towards home, but an ear-shattering crack of thunder roared just then, and he yelped and darted into a near-by bush.

"Oh, for…" she growled, more then a little annoyed. It always bothered her when people- and dogs, too- were afraid for foolish reasons. She hadn't even jumped when the roar of sound had exploded across the sky. Her calm-headed nature, intensive training, and years in the military made her able to keep her cool even during tense or uneasy moments. And besides, thunder was hardly something to be afraid of. It was a loud noise, nothing more. Scowling, she made her way over to the bush Hayate was cowering in and held out her hand.

"Here, Hayate. Come here. Hayate!" The dog was growling softly underneath his breath, but when a bolt of lighting streaked across the sky, the snarls turned to whimpers, and he dug himself farther underneath the bush. "Hayate, you are being ridiculous. It's thunder-it's a _sound_. Now come out." He didn't move. "Hayate, I am not going to drag you home, so either you come out or you'll have to find your own way back." He still didn't move, obviously well aware that his master's threats were as empty as she'd been feeling. Riza was contemplating using her gun to smoke him out, when—

"Oooh, Roy, it's so nasty out! I just hate it when it pours like this, plus my dress will be absolutely _ruined!_ Let's go back to the bar."

Riza froze. That wasn't…there was no way that…

"C'mon, baby, you know the bar'll be closed by the time we get there. Besides, don't you wanna see my place?" There was a high-pitched, knowing giggle.

Riza felt faint. There was no mistaking that cocky, self-assured voice--it was the colonel. And he was coming this way.

"Don't worry, babe, I'll make up for the rain, trust me." Another giggle, loud and obscene, split the air. Riza clenched her fists. Roy certainly wasn't letting the rain get to him.

_You see?_ She laughed, wanting to cry all over again. _And here you were worried that he'd be depressed because of the weather.

* * *

_

Roy was putting on the best show of his life. The girl who had attached herself to his arm had no idea how miserable he was.

Because of the weather, the bar had been pretty empty, and the choice of available singles limited, so the girl did end up being blond. But, she was loud, obnoxious, and ditzy--in short, the exact opposite of Riza. Roy knew there'd be no confusing the two, blond hair or not. He'd sat through a hellish few hours while the girl got loaded and oozed on and on about shopping and fame and how she wanted to be an actress. "Or maybe a military hero's wife," she'd trilled, winking. It was all Roy could do to keep from throwing a bottle of vodka at her.

He himself hadn't so much as touched a shot glass, though he'd been sorely tempted when the girl began describing how her old boyfriend used to 'buy her lots and lots'. He'd played his part nicely, nodding whenever she said anything, acting like he cared that she 'wasn't like those other girls, oh no, she didn't flip out about clothes. If something got dirty, that was fine by her-she'd just buy new ones. Things only lasted, like, one season anyway, and blah blah blah…'

Roy'd gone to the bathroom at that point so that if he puked, it wouldn't be on her.

The worst part had been when she'd rested her head on his shoulder and asked about Ishbal. Or, to be more specific, 'that giant, like, battle thing.'

First of all, Roy didn't like her cozying up to him like that. _For god's sake, I'm some random bar-hopper you just met!_ he'd thought in disbelief. _I could be a rapist or mugger or something!_ He knew he shouldn't care so much--usually, he was nothing short of pleased when a girl threw herself on him like that. But this time, it just pissed him off…

He couldn't help but think of Riza- _she'd_ never be that stupid. Even on the off-chance that she _did _ever end up in a bar, any man who tried to pull what Roy was pulling on this ditz was guaranteed to wind up with a bullet between the eyes. He'd always secretly admired that about her; some people called her a loner or standoffish, but Roy knew that she was simply private. And after going out with a different girl each week, and knowing more about the sex lives of each one then he'd ever wanted to, Roy could _definitely_ respect that.

"Roy? Sweetie?"

Urgh, that was another thing about this one he couldn't stand….her insistence on using _pet names_. Riza never wasted her time on cutesy names; she just called him The Colonel, or Colonel Mustang.

(And there'd been one time where she'd called him by his first name, but that had been under slightly different circumstances. Long ago, in Ishbal, she'd been so mad at him that she'd forgotten herself and called him Roy, but it was an understandable mistake--she'd walked in his tent to find him pressing a gun up against his head, about to pull the trigger. Although, looking back, he had to admit she'd sounded more worried then angry…or at least, when she slugged him, it didn't feel quite as scolding. Just really, really painful. And of course she'd apologized afterwards.)

"So, you're a colonel at your age? Wow! You must have been a real hero back in the war."

Ah yes, his lovely lady friend- if you could call her that- had also treated him to a wonderful trip down the Ishbalan memory lane, courtesy of the assorted ghosts who were lurking, waiting for darkness to strike so they could have their nightly revenge.

"Oooh, Roy," she'd cooed, "tell me about, um, like, that Ishbell place or whatever. The place where you became, like, famous. Lucky for you, too, I only date famous men!" Her statement was, of course, followed by that giggle of hers that sent shivers down his spine.

Yeah, he sure was lucky, all right. Lucky enough to be spending time with this bimbo when he could have been spending time with his first lieutenant…lucky enough to have to dredge up old and hated memories for the sake of someone else's enjoyment…lucky enough to have to _sit_ here and _talk_ to this girl and drive himself _insane_…

Yeah, he was pretty damn lucky, all right.

"C'mon, Roy-Roy"-he'd shuddered, but she'd been too drunk by then to notice- "tell me about Ishbell. All the girls I know want to hear you talk about that. Um, that was like, a war or something, right?"

And so he'd sat there, and mumbled into an empty vodka glass about his thrilling war days. About how wonderful he'd felt when he'd been promoted to Major for his glorious job out on the battle field.

_Congratulations, Mustang, I heard you got promoted! And all you did was torch a few of them rats! I must have killed a dozen bare-handed, where's my advance? Ah hah, just kidding with ya, Mustang, you deserve that promotion. They say that when you were done with 'em, those rats didn't look human no more. Just a bunch of ashes and bones, right? Ah hah…hey, you don't look so good. You feeling ok?...Mustang?_

About how brave he'd been.

_Everyone pats him on the back, 'Good Job, Roy,' they all say—except for her, she looks at him and doesn't say a word, and he can sense the anger in her eyes. He knows she's upset over today's casualties, but like Colonel Grand says, better an Ishbalan then an alchemist, right?...Right? Anyway, he couldn't help it, he'd been under orders, under orders to kill everyone he saw, even the little children who looked up at him in terror from where they huddled next to their dead mother….but somehow, all the reasoning, the praise, the Just Following Orders, somehow all of that can't remove that sad look in her eyes from his mind, he can't get rid of that vision no matter what he does. Somehow that reproachful look is the worst punishment of all….his back is numb from people slapping it in praise, and his chest is covered in blood, 'Man, that sucks, Mustang--too bad that last little termite exploded all over ya, huh? Made a mess outta your uniform!' Yes, yes, it was too bad, it was all too bad, too bad that his uniform is now covered with the blood and guts of a human being whose life he just ended, too bad that he now has to change clothes to get rid of the grotesque slime covering him, too bad that even when he does, he can't remove the slime from himself, he can feel it absorbing into him, the blood, the guts, the agony. And he suddenly can't help himself—he throws up, doubled over and gasping. And everyone just looks away, no one wants to see the great Major Mustang admit that he was wrong, that they were all wrong. And he can't get that look in her eyes out of his mind._

"Oooh, it sounds real exciting, Roy-Roy! And now you're a big hero!"

A big hero…his stomach turned over and he was afraid he was going to be sick. A big hero….yes, a big hero, returning from the battle field with a chest full of metals, and a closet full of awards, and a soul dripping red, dripping blood. Yes, he was a great big fucking _hero._

_Hey, where's the Major? This whole party's for him!_

_Eh, he didn't wanna come. Shut himself up in his room. _

_Again? Man, something's wrong with him. I mean, he's the Flame Alchemist, he's usually so cocky._

_Yeah, he's been acting weird lately. That cute second lieutenant's the only one he'll talk to besides the weird guy who's obsessed with his fiancée. _

_It's weird…why would he be so upset? He's a war hero!_

"Oh, Roy, you're the greatest. Tell me more about Ishbell—oh, it's Ishbal? Ishbal, then- tell me more of these funny stories."

_Funny stories?_! he wanted to shout._ There's nothing funny about them! What's so funny about war_?_! About death and murder!_?

But instead, he tried to keep his voice level as he asked, "Do you mind if we talk about something else?"

She looked at him, confused. "But why, Roy-Roy?"

"Because I don't really like talking about it."

Damn it, he wouldn't have had to tell _Riza_ not to talk about Ishbal. She already knew. She knew how he felt, and she never mentioned the war or his grisly role in it. She'd always known. He was never sure how, but she always did. She was the only one, besides Hughes, that he could stand to look at afterwards. During that horrible, bleakly grey period directly after the war, Riza and Maes would sit quietly by his side as he moaned and ranted and threatened the air. And sometimes, it was just Riza who sat next to him, letting him rage, but at the same time giving him something to hold on to, a life preserver to which he desperately clung. And when the waters inched too high, it was Riza who dove in and saved him…

And how had he repaid her? By _hurting_ her. He'd been so foolish, and he was only seeing it now. It was suddenly hitting him, all at once, just like in Ishbal, what he had done. Riza had _not _rejected him, he'd just been too blind to see…and now the chance that had been between them was gone, destroyed, and it was all because of his stupidity…she'd never want to so much as _look_ at him again after this…

He grabbed the nearest liquor bottle and downed the last few sips. Never mind his pledge from earlier- he'd suffered enough for one night; any more and he was afraid he'd crack. On top of everything, there was _this_!

His date was still looking at him, confused. "Baby, what are you staring at?"

"Hmm….?" He blinked, tried to focus. "Oh, nothing…." He forced a laugh. "It's just, I think I left some paperwork loose in the office again; my lieutenant's gonna kill me."

"Hmph." His date looked sulky. Without meaning to, Roy'd spent much of the night talking about Riza- when he wasn't in a bored-to-death stupor or fighting off inner demons, that was. Now it seemed the girl he was supposedly with was getting jealous.

"So, this, uh…_girl_…she's a _subordinate_…" Her nose wrinkled in disdain. "That's like a servant, right?"

"She is _not_ a servant," Roy said hotly. No way he was gonna let this bitch insult Riza…_he'd_ already insulted her enough for one day.

His date smiled, a thin-lipped smirk that barely contained her snotty contempt. "Mmm…I'm sure. She sounds very…_plain._"

"Riza Hawkeye is not _plain!_ She's a loyal solder, extremely hard-working, one of the best friends I've ever had…." His voice trailed off.

"Mmm…but it's too bad she has to work so hard. She should find herself a nice, rich boyfriend and quit. I mean, it's not like you _need_ her or anything, right?"

Under the words lay a thinly-veiled challenge. Roy stared into the vodka bottle again, trying not to lose it. Did he need her? Did he _need_ Riza Hawkeye? Try asking someone if they need air to breath, or if they need sleep to function properly. The answer would be the same. His date, however, confident that his silence was the answer she wanted, leaned over, deliberately showing off as much cleavage as humanly possible while still wearing clothes.

"C'mon, baby, I wanna get to know you better too. I wanna get to know all of you better." Roy's stomach lurched again. Have sex—with this creature? For a minute, he wanted to get up and run…but then he thought about it. Where would he run, except to Riza's? And what was there for him? Nothing. Not after his moronic display back at the office. He'd might as well get used to these drunken bimbos- they were all he had to look forward to. Oh, God damn it, he wished he was as drunk as her!

"Well, Roy? Wanna go to your place?"

Riza's face flashed in front of his eyes, he felt one more split second of indecision, one last spurt of dumb hope…and then the image faded, and he knew that the answer had already been decided for him…that it had been decided for him the second he'd snapped his fingers and watched without speaking as a house filled with life burned and fizzled and collapsed. He was paying for his sins, and his choice had already been made.

"Sure, why not. I'd like to show you around."

* * *

AN- told you the girl was annoyingly annoying. there's a semi-reason why i didnt give the date a name coughwaytoolazytocomeupwithonecough. so whatever, she's just The Date. XD a lot of people have been reading this, which rocks! but i cant get any better without feedback, so puh-leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze review! unless ur planning on flaming, o'course...but otherwise, R+R! 

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EDIT 7/12/06-- wow. the more and more i read this thing, the less i like it. oh well.


	6. Chapter 6 part 1

AN**- **

hello all. first things first--this is only part of chapter 6. this chapter turned out to be just way too long to post all at once, so i decided to break them up into 2 parts. i'm posting them both the same day, but this way it wont look so overwhelming, hopefully. so if you wanna read the whole thing at once, it's there, if not, i won't be updating tomorrow 'cause i haven't started the next chapter yet, so you still have something to read.

* * *

**Widening the Gap**

_It's like being sucker-punched._

That's exactly what Roy's impromptu run-in with his first lieutenant was, to be honest—a sucker punch to the heart. He certainly had _not_ been expecting it.

As he'd first left the bar with his date, he'd noted that the rain had picked up again and asked if he could share her umbrella. She'd taken that to mean that he wanted to 'get closer' to her, with the result of her fastening herself to his arm and refusing to let go. Roy'd suggested taking a short-cut through the park so he could detach his arm from her death-grip quicker. He'd been so busy charming the girl that he hadn't really looked to see if anyone else was around. He knew Hawkeye would have yelled at him for that, but to his line of thinking, who would be out in such bad weather? Of course, Riza would probably just have informed him that poor conditions made for an even greater chance of attack, but….he wasn't really focusing too clearly at the moment.

"Oooh, Roy, it's so nasty out!" The blond gripped his arm even tighter, jerking the umbrella so that it covered all of her, but left Roy with half his body sticking out. "I just hate it when it pours like this, plus my dress will be absolutely _ruined!_ Let's go back to the bar."

Roy gritted his teeth, but managed to keep his voice relaxed.

"C'mon, baby, you know the bar'll be closed by the time we get there. Besides, don't you wanna see my place?" His date giggled shrilly for the hundredth time that night.

Roy picked up the pace, or at least _tried_ to; the girl wasn't making it any easier on him. She was wearing these open-toed sandals with deadly-looking high heels. They made her at least another five or six inches taller. Noticing how she kept wincing and complaining about the water sloshing in though the toes, Roy asked her testily why she was wearing sandals on a night like this. She looked at him, confused.

"'Cause they're in style, duh. I remember, I got this pair in…" and she was off, going on and on about her stupid shoes. Roy struggled to keep it together. He couldn't help but think of Riza, and how she never wasted time or money on trivial things like this. He also never had to worry about zoning out during their conversations--when Riza Hawkeye spoke, you knew it was about something important. God, what he wouldn't do right now for just one conversation that was actually _interesting_…

Between trying to stay awake and trying to look like he cared about famous Amsterian shoe designers, Roy heard a dog barking close by and idly mused that it sounded a lot like Black Hayate, Riza's dog. It never even crossed his mind that it might actually _be_ Black Hayate!

Until, that is, they turned a corner and he saw Riza standing there staring back at him.

Roy stopped in his tracks, nearly causing his date to topple over.

"Ugh! Royyy, what are you _doing?_!"

He gave no indication that he'd even heard her. He was too busy staring at Riza in shock. Considering how bored he was, and how close he and Riza were, his first instinct was to run over and hug her with relief—but then, of course, all that had happened before came flooding back, and he didn't move. Ignoring the still-complaining girl next to him, he just stood there….and stared.

Riza looked back at him, resting an umbrella against her side. It looked as though she'd given up the battle to stay dry. Her hair was plastered to the back of her head in a limp version of her usual bun, and her long skirt was wrapped around her legs. Daring to move his eyes down from her face a little, Roy became all too aware that her shirt was just as wet, and sticking just as revealingly in some very…interesting places. Not that he was complaining. Water-logged or not, Roy still thought she looked beautiful….he was beginning to suspect that nothing could ever make her look less then perfect in his eyes.

"C-Colonel?" Riza was the first to get over her surprise. "Why are you out here in weather like this…?"

Roy blinked. "I…I could ask you the same question, Lieutenant."

Riza made a half-hearted gesture at a clump of bushes next to her. "I was trying to extract my dog from…." She paused, a strange, oddly detached look coming into her eyes. "You shouldn't be out in this bad weather, sir. It's cold, and you could get injured or sick….or at the very least your _date_ might not enjoy herself." Roy couldn't help but wince when he heard the harsh way she pronounced 'date'.

"Y-Yeah, you're right as always, Hawkeye." He noticed as her eyes drifted from him, over to the grumpy blond next to him, and he made some feeble introductions. "Ah, this is my first lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye…um…" When neither girl said anything, he barreled on. "And Riz- I mean, Lieutenant Hawkeye, this is—"

"I'm Roy's _girlfriend_," she interrupted him, holding out her hand with a sugary smile. He could see Riza swallow hard at that--it was obvious she had to force herself to shake the other's hand.

"Well, I don't know about _that_, it's not like we're _dating_—" he began indignantly, but his 'girlfriend' just talked right over him.

"So, _you're_ the Riza my little Roy-Roy works with…" Her lips curled upwards in a nasty little sneer. She didn't seem to be too impressed with Riza, and she also seemed more then pleased that she'd stumbled upon her and Roy. "Roy told me oh so much about you, you know, I really wanted to see you in person."

"Did he," Riza replied calmly. Roy had to hand it to her, even in a situation like this, the girl kept her cool. "I'm flattered."

His date blinked; Roy could tell Riza's cold-as-ice demeanor - and it was _really_ cold right now! - was seriously unnerving her. "Y-Yes, we talked soo much about you. It must be great to work with him, he is such a sweetie-pie!"

_Oh lord…_Roy buried his head in his hands with a sweat drop. Was it just him, or was Riza trying not to snicker?

"Yes, working with the colonel certainly keeps one busy," she was saying, her lips twinging ever-so-slightly. It was such a faint gesture that his date didn't even notice, but Roy sure as hell did.

_I don't believe this…she's **laughing** at me!"_

His date didn't find anything amusing about the situation. "Well, I'm just lucky you two didn't decide to fall in love!"

She laughed. She was the only one who did.

"Of course, I'm sure you have someone else in your life, it's not like you ever had a chance with my Roy." Roy felt a fresh wave of guilt smash into him. Riza stood with her head down, hiding her expression, but Roy saw how she clenched her fists, and how her shoulders sank a bit.

"After all, a famous alchemist like Roy Mustang deserves perfection, right? And, no offense, honey, but you don't look very _perfect_ right now." The ditz giggled again, proud of the cunning way in which she'd stuck at her supposed-rival. Roy opened his mouth angrily, but Riza didn't need his help.

"No, it's true, I'm afraid, the rain's wrecked havoc on my appearance right now," she replied, still calm. The ice in her voice, however, was beginning to be singed by flames of anger, Roy could tell. "However, I'm hardly the only one left in this condition." She smiled primly as the other girl's expression changed from smugness to anger to confusion.

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean!" the date demanded, color rising in her face.

"Nothing at all. Except that if I were you, I'd readjust myself. You're falling out of that dress. Isn't it a shame," she continued as if she didn't see the girl flush darkly with embarrassment, or Roy bite his hand to keep from laughing aloud, "what chaos v-necked dresses can cause? That's why I always try and avoid them, personally."

"I'm sure you do," the date snapped, and grabbed the umbrella from Roy, stomping behind a tree to 'fix herself.' Roy looked over at Riza, unable to keep the admiration out of his voice, not caring- or noticing, for that matter- that he was getting rained on.

"Wow, that was harsh, Lieutenant. But I gotta admit she deserved it—"

Riza interrupted him, her voice no less cold and unforgiving then it had been with his 'girlfriend'. "Excuse me, sir, but shouldn't you be helping your _date_ right now?"

Roy sighed and looked away. _No need to ask **her** if she's pissed_, he thought ruefully. But still, he really wanted to set things right between them again…

"Hey, c'mon, Hawkeye, is it such a crime if I wanna talk to you for a second?" He meant it to be a friendly jest, but Riza's eyes flashed with anger none the less.

"It is when you're already _with_ someone!" she snarled at him, and he was surprised to hear how mad she sounded. He looked up at her, and nearly had a heart attack- were those _tears_ in her eyes?

Yes, he realized, his heart sinking, those were angry and frustrated tears. Her amber eyes burned with despair, drilling a hole right through him. He hesitated, trying to think of some way--_any_ way--to fix this. Because he _had_ to fix this. He didn't want to have to look at those eyes again if they were going to look like that, he wouldn't be able to bear it. He was tired of being uncomfortable around her…he was tired of not being able to cross over the wall that had sprouted up between them seemingly out of nowhere. She was the one who helped him feel _less_ guilty, damn it--this was all horribly wrong!

"Look, Hawkeye," he began, running a hand through his dripping hair, "I'm, uh, sorry my date's being such a bitch. You know how it is, she's kinda drunk and all, so…"

"You don't have to apologize for her, Colonel. I don't care. You have the right to date whomever you want, after all." The words came out so bitter, so scornful….Roy felt his insides squirm again. Oh, god, he couldn't take this, he couldn't stand having her mad at him…

"No, really, Lieutenant, she had no right to treat you like that. I promise that if she tries it again, I'll—"

_"Don't!_!"

Roy stared at her, shocked into silence.

"Don't say what you don't mean, Colonel." Her voice was shaking with anger. "I don't need you to protect me. I never have."

It was like someone had taken a knife and plunged it into his heart, and was now slowly, cruelly twisting it, carving out a chunk of flesh as payment. "Hey, I never said you _did_." _Easy, easy, she's upset. Just calm her down and then you can talk…_ "Look, Hawkeye," he began again, making sure to keep his voice gentle, "I'm sorry that I've upset you like this. You really don't deserve it, and—"

"Don't pity me, Colonel." A low, flat, hiss. "I don't want your pity."

"I'm not _pitying_ you, I'm just saying…"

"It's none of my business, and I have no right to be mad at you for making the choice that you did. So you don't have to apologize…" She glared at him. "Why lie about it!"

"Listen, Hawkeye," and now his own temper was beginning to rage; he couldn't control it even though he knew it would only make things worse. "I think I know my own damn feelings! I would hope I have at least somewhat of a clue!"

"Fine!" she snapped back, "Then if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go dry off. Hayate!" she barked, and the dog came right out. He was more afraid of Riza then the thunder when she used _that_ tone of voice.

_Damn it, damn it!_!

Roy clenched his fists as she started to walk away, his thoughts racing crazily. The only one who understood him, the only one he didn't think he could survive without…the girl who had kept him alive during Ishbal, the girl he still needed to keep going now…the girl that he longed for with a kind of desperate desire…that girl was walking away from him. He felt disjointed, unhinged, a mad rush of frantic and violent rage overpowered him…damn it, he needed her! He needed that bullet to the head every now and then! He needed that gentle understanding! Maybe he didn't deserve the peace of mind she brought him, but he needed it all the same! He didn't want to face the demons that plagued him without Riza Hawkeye by his side…he was too afraid to face them all alone…

_She can't just leave…!_ he thought wildly. _She has to listen to me!_!_ I have to make her understand!_

He chased after her. "Lieutenant Hawkeye, stop!" And sure enough, she did, even though it was clear she had to force herself to stop moving. But she did wait for him…Riza couldn't disobey a direct order from her commanding officer, no matter what. Roy caught up with her, determined to fix things, fix everything, even if he had to bow down and beg. "Alright, look, Hawkeye, it's pretty damn obvious that things between us—"

"I'm sorry, sir," she interjected quietly. He stopped, taken aback. "I had no right to raise my voice to you. I apologize for my transgressions." Her voice, though still sad, no longer sounded so furious, and Roy wondered hopefully—stupidly—if everything between them was ok again. But…

"Your _date_ is waiting for you, sir."

"Let her wait," he answered impatiently. Who cared about that bimbo? There were more important things to worry about right now…

"With all due respect, sir, she doesn't seem very happy."

"I don't _care_."

"Sir…" Riza's reproachful glance wilted him.

"Ok," he said wearily, "ok, I'll go back. But….it's just…Riz—Hawkeye, I really….I mean…I just have to…." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I…I lo—"

"Colonel," she said softly, and the raw, ragged pain in her voice was so intense he wanted to scream. How could he have wounded her so deeply? He almost couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes, and when he did, he instantly wished he hadn't…he couldn't quite bring himself to believe, though he fervently wanted to, that it was just the rain making her face so wet…

"Please don't say anything you don't mean just to make me feel better."

"I'm _not_! I mean…I don't…"

"Your date is waiting, sir. You should go back to her."

And then his temper broke. "God damn it!"

He knew he was making a mistake even as he yelled. Everything that made him who he was screamed at him to stop; every fiber in his being slumped at the shocked look that appeared on her face. But the stress, the longing, the hopelessness…all combined to spur on an ocean of guilt so deep he couldn't see the bottem. He was drowning, drowning….and this time, there was no one there to plunge in and save him….and this time, the surface lingered forever out of reach…

And on top of it all, the damn rain just wouldn't stop falling…it trickled everywhere, pounding on his head, soaking into his clothing, reminding him with every drip, _fool, fool, murdering fool._ He couldn't take the blackness that was rapidly destroying the world around him…he couldn't deal with the angry accusations of the rain…

"Damn it," he shouted, "Who's the goddamn colonel here!"

Then he sagged a bit and looked at her. His anger crumpled in on itself as he saw the devastated look on her face. Instantly, he wanted to take it all back, take everything he'd ever said and done back. His mind whirled, and a dark voice inside of him sneered, _heh, look at what you've done now. Chalk it up to another victory for Roy Mustang! Such a fine fellow, that murderous bastard!_

This time he really couldn't look her in the eye. Oh, shit, he was such a useless idiot…

"Dammit….Hawkeye, I'm sorr—"

She didn't let him finish. "Yes sir. I apologize for overstepping my boundaries and making you upset, sir," she said in the dullest of monotones.

_No!_ he wanted to beg, _don't just take it! Yell at me! Call me every bad name there is! Take out that gun of yours and shoot me!_!_ Go ahead, I deserve it! Damn it_! But of course she didn't. She simply stood there, and he had to watch as the fire in her eyes burned lower and lower…

_How could I have hurt her like this…? What kind of monster…?_

"Roy!" His date yelled from behind him, sounding pissed. "Let's go! You can talk to your _subordinate_ later!"

He looked at Riza, pleadingly, but the look on her face didn't change. Damn, he'd rather see her crying, see her yelling….anything but what she looked like now, that dead look on her face was eating through him like cancer…

"Permission to leave, sir?"

Roy stared at her, horrified. When was the last time she'd asked him for something as demeaning as that…? Had he really destroyed their relationship so completely…?

It looked like he had.

The knife in his heart was twisting again, his soul felt slippery with blood-stained anguish. She was still looking at him, so sad and so beautiful…so achingly beautiful…the words were on the tip of his tongue…but, no, he didn't deserve her. He managed to inflict pain on everyone he got too close to, and he wouldn't allow himself to hurt her again…

She was looking at him, waiting for him to release her. _Well, _he thought grimly, _I can at least do that much._

"Y-Yes, Lieutenant…you can go. You know you don't need to ask…"

"Of course I do, sir," she informed him quietly. "You're my commanding officer, after all." Her words bit deep into him, more knife wounds that bled fury. He watched helplessly, miserably, as she turned and walked away. That was all they were now, when it boiled down to it…a subordinate and her superior officer. A superior officer and his subordinate. He'd hoped for romance and now he didn't even have friendship. He was unavoidably, brutally, alone. The knowledge that she was as unhappy as he was didn't help any, either. And in the midst of all this, he noticed how she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth, how she'd been shivering in the rain….how he'd done nothing to help her….nope, he was Roy Mustang, Hero of Ishbal, god forbid he do something decent for a change. The rain drops hitting him burned like acid…he could feel them wearing him away, bit by broken bit.

He looked up at the drab and mournful sky and knew that he didn't have to fear hell any longer….he was already there.

* * *

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EDIT 6/12/06-- fiddled some with this chapter; mostly around the opening line. not much i could do (besides rewrite the whole dang chapter) to fix the ooc...i never realized how...OFF my first attempts at roy/riza were.


	7. Chapter 6 part 2

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* * *

Part 2**

The date tapped one of her expensive heels against the pavement impatiently. From where she was standing, she could see the colonel having a heated conversation with that weird servant of his. She rolled her eyes, annoyed that he was making her wait out here in the rain.

_Jeeze,_ she thought,_ when all my friends were telling me about how rich and funny and good in bed Roy Mustang is, they forgot to tell me how irritating he is, too!_

Because he really was a nut job, she mused. She'd spent half the night trying to flirt with him, and all he did was act like he was at a fricken funeral. First of all, he wouldn't drink _anything_, even though she must have asked him if he wanted a shot of vodka or a martini a thousand times. At the time, she'd thought his obviously forced sobriety (he'd stared at her own Bloody Mary like he was dying of thirst) was kind of cute, but after a while she began to realize that it would have been a lot better if he _had_ gotten drunk. At least then, she could have passed his weirdness off as a result of the booze.

That was another thing her friends had forgotten to mention when describing the great Colonel Mustang—he wasn't _normal._ Half the time, she'd gotten the sense that he wasn't even listening to her! And when she'd tried to get closer to him, he'd reacted like she was trying to stab him or something. He'd gone to the bathroom at least three times- without having a single _sip_ of something nice and alcoholic. Either he had the world's weakest bladder, or he was trying to ditch her. The very thought pissed her off- guys did _not_ reject her. _Ever_.

Finally, she'd figured that he was just one of those cocky bastards who only wanted to talk about himself. That was fine by her; she was too drunk to really carry on a conversation by that point, anyway. So, she'd given him a chance to start bragging--something she'd always found very appealing in men; the more confident a guy was, the better chance of his succeeding in life and becoming a millionaire, right? But Roy… what had he done? Mumbled a few short sentences about a war he was supposed to be proud of, and then dropped back into that annoyingly gloomy silence. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was depressed people- they were boring.

_Yeesh,_ she groused to herself after he made that pathetic plea to change topics, _he acts like he's ashamed or something. I don't get it, why would he give a shit? No one else does. Who cares about a bunch of Ishbalans, anyway? They're just a bunch of weirdos who live like savages, right? _

Besides, if he was going to be depressed like that, why didn't he just get drunk so he wouldn't have to worry about it? That's what normal people did. But, nooo, Roy kept on refusing drinks up until the very end, when he grabbed a half-empty vodka bottle and began guzzling its contents like he was trying to drown himself. God, the man could be so _angsty_…

Of course, compared to _his _conversation of choice, she would have rather picked his moping. At least then he wasn't going on about that stupid secretary of his. Oh, wait, maybe she wasn't a secretary…but, whatever, she still sounded like a freak. A _girl_ who was famous for shooting people? Gross! Why didn't she just pretend to be a man altogether while she was at it! And Roy was so _obsessed_ with her! Like, hello, she didn't care about this random military dog. Why should she, the girl sounded like a servant! But servant or not, every five seconds it was 'Riza this' and '1st Lieutenant that'. Puh-_leeze_. No one cared that she saved his ass in Ishbal. What self-respecting man would brag about being saved by a woman, anyway?

She'd been more then happy to get out of the bar and head for Roy's house. From what she'd heard, she figured that Roy's prowess in bed would make up for the boring conversation and rants about some other ugly bitch. But of _course_, he had to complicate that too. He just _had_ to run into that lieutenant girl of his. The date had nearly burst out laughing when she saw this Riza person he was so fixated on. He actually thought she was attractive! Hah! She had sludge on her knees and hands, really creepy eyes, and pale skin—_Hello, hasn't she ever heard of makeup?_!

Her choice of clothing left a lot to be desired, too- not _one _designer item _anywhere_. And her shoes were all muddy and scuffed up.

_I guess that's what **military** women are like_!

And then, of course, Roy Mustang had gone and acted like a loser, staring at this boring girl like she was a god or something. _Like, hello, who's the date here?_

Not to mention, that girl was so bizarre! She sounded like a robot. And she was mean! Embarrassing her in front of Roy like that! Roy hadn't even bothered to stick up for her...

The last thing she wanted to do, after hurriedly fixing her dress, (a limited-addition designer favorite that was so totally worth the problems caused by the dangerously-low neckline), was to stand around waiting in the rain like some peasant, watching the man who was _supposed_ to be showering love and attention on _her_ drool over some weird robot-girl.

"Royyy!" she whined again. " Roy, come on! I'm getting wet. Besides, that girl already left! This isn't any fun, Roy!"

He slowly turned to look at her, and for a minute she felt nervousness tingle at the back of her neck from the look in his eyes. But then he laughed, and she relaxed. No worries, he was back to normal now. Honestly, though, he acted so weird around that military girl….good thing she'd gone.

_Maybe now I can get __Roy__ in bed,_ she thought hopefully. _But for his sake, he better be, like, amazing, 'cause otherwise this date was a total bust. _

Roy sauntered over to her, grinning. The date frowned. Something about that expression on his face was creeping her out big time. But, whatever, as long as he was willing to pay some attention to her for a change…

"Sorry 'bout that, baby." He slung an arm around her waist, still leering oddly. "Had some important business to take care off." He sighed, and his smile faltered. "Don't think I did a very good job, though…"

He looked at the date, his tone of voice almost _begging_. "I just really screwed things up, and…I have no idea how to fix them…you know. How totally messed-up things can get…how, sometimes, it's like, no matter what you say, everything will just keep getting worse and worse, and there's nothing you can do—"

"Um, like, ex-_cuse_ me, Roy," the date interrupted him, sounding annoyed. "Not that having this little heart-to-heart isn't _amazingly_ fun and all, but could we, like, not have it in the rain?"

He stared at her, uncomprehending. Surely even a girl this selfish and stupid couldn't be _that_ hard-hearted...

"Yeah, yeah…sure…but, I mean, you understand, right? How crazy things can get? I mean, hell, I can't even focus on anything—"

"Uhm, like, yeah, that's kinda obvious. You're all, like, soaked and stuff. I would freak out if I was as messy as you are. I mean, I'm wearing designers! Now, could we get going? And move your arm, you're making me wet."

Roy stared. The date felt irritated uncertainty crawling up her spine. What was wrong with him _now?_? She opened her mouth to yell at him again, but then Roy laughed mirthlessly.

"Ah hah, forget it. Girls like you don't have a care in the world, right?"

"That is _not _true," she spouted indigently. "I do so have cares! The price of city living has just sky-rocketed, I'm paying so much rent these days…not that I can't afford it, but…"

Roy laughed again. The ditz frowned, wishing he'd stop doing that. It was really freaky, the way he was laughing.

"Some problem. It must have been so horrible for you…hah! So fucking horrible."

She scowled. Oh, that was _it_! "Listen, Roy. I don't know what's wrong with you, but I'm not happy! I wanted to have some fun tonight, and you're just weirding me out. Maybe I'd better go."

"Oh, c'mon baby, don't do that." He rubbed his eyes, which were oddly red, though they hadn't been a few moments before. "I didn't mean to piss you off, I just thought…." He paused. "I mean, when you went to the bathroom, I swiped some guy's scotch, and it's getting to me now, that's all."

The date felt herself smile with relief. Oh, so _that_ was why he'd been acting so weird all night! He _was_ drunk!

Winking at him seductively, she purred, "It's all right, sweetie. I understand. C'mon, let's go back to your place, and I'll make it all better."

Roy grinned weakly, noticing how easily she accepted his lie as truth. "You're gonna make it all better?" he murmured quietly, only half-aware that he'd even spoken aloud at all. "Don't bother, babe, I seriously doubt you could…"

"You say something, sweetie? I thought I heard you talking."

"Nah, I didn't say anything." He looked up at the sky again, wishing that for just one moment the clouds would give enough for him to see the stars.

"Oh, I guess it was like, the wind or whatever."

"Yeah….it must have been the wind."

_

* * *

_

_The flames belched and sent smoke surging up into the blood-tinged air. The ruined shells of buildings on either side of the cracked and damaged road loomed menacingly, their scorched bricks and shattered glass threatening to rise up once and for all and destroy the invader. He stumbled helplessly in the chaos, blinded by the smoke, his throat and eyes red and raw from the intense heat. It hurt to think, to breathe, to function. Ashes floated in front of him, and when a few landed on his dirty uniform his stomach lurched and he swatted them away. Who knew if those ashes were from the unstoppable fires or the people caught in those flames? People caught in a hell of his own making…but Roy Mustang had no desire to play the devil. _

_He tried to speed up, desperate to escape this ruined land of death and twisted metal. His legs rebelled, and pain shot up his sides. He cried out, and lowered a hand to feel the wound. Had he been wounded? He didn't remember. He didn't remember anything but the feel of murderous heat pressing against his face, making it hard to breathe, and the sensation of dark-red ooze drying on his gloves. His hands came away from his side smeared with fresh blood. Was it his? _

Oh fuck, I hope so. Damn it…

_He looked around, franticly, trying to see something—anything—through the dark certainty of the dusty curtain that enveloped everything. "Hey," he yelled, hearing nothing but his own voice echoing crazily in reply. "Hey!_!_" _

Where is everybody? Why am I the only one trapped here?

_"Hey!" he called again, a note of panic in his voice. "**Hey**!_!_" _

_No answer. The fires crackled, snickering, and the burning buildings passed their silent judgment. The brutal wind took his voice and erased it, blowing hot ash his way so that he stumbled and gagged. _

_"Colonel!" _

_He looked up, surprised. Someone else was stuck here too? _

_"Colonel! Sir!" _

_He knew, somehow, that the woman was calling for him. "But I'm not a colonel," he mumbled thickly. "I'm still a major." _

_"Colonel, where are you!_? _Sir, please, answer me!" _

_I'm here, he tried to say, but the stench of burned and decaying flesh made him gag again. I'm here… _

_"Colonel!" the voice continued to call, persistently. "Don't worry, sir, I'll find you! Just hold on, sir, I'm coming!" _

_He managed to smile faintly. He couldn't quite remember who this woman was, but he knew, as surely as he'd known she was searching for him, that she would find him. His eyes stopped burning so badly, and the smoke cleared a bit. She was coming…everything was going to be ok… _

_"Colonel, I'm coming!" _

_He smiled again. _Don't worry, it's ok. I can hold on…it's all going to be ok now. It's going to be alright…

_"Colo—" _

_And then, her voice was cut off by the sharp crack of a sharpshooter's bullet finding its mark. Roy remained frozen in place, the echo of the gun being fired hammering smugly in his ears, thudding against his ear drums. _

_It was only after the noise finally began to fade that he became aware of another, softer, even more horrible sound….the muted, tortured cries of someone who has had the misfortune of being mortally wounded, but not killed outright, or even knocked unconscious. _

_They were the cries of someone who was about to die…. _

_"**Riza**!" _

_Franticly, he took off running, dodging the rubble that lay in his path. He had to find her, had to get there in time—_she was looking for _me_, it's _my_ fault if she dies!

_His feet pounded the pavement, and he was aware of a terrible roaring in his ears. His body was shaking despite the heat, and nausea kept drifting over him with poison-laced fingertips. _

Oh, god, don't let her die! Do whatever the hell you want, just…don't you fucking dare take her away from me…!

_He barreled around a corner, pressing himself to go faster. He was almost there, he could feel it…just a few more steps… _

_"Ahhgh…aah_!_!" _

_Screams tore at his lips as his left leg suddenly caved in, blood gushing down it from a small bullet hole that appeared suddenly, out of nowhere. He grabbed at the wound, gasping with pain, eyes wide and staring. When had he been shot? He didn't remember ever having been shot! _

_Another faint cry reached his ears, sounding much, much weaker. Roy groaned despairingly, straining to force himself back to his feet. The sweat ran down his face, mingling with the wet caress of blood leaking from him furiously. He felt dizzy, light-headed…he suddenly wanted nothing more then to close his eyes and sleep… _

_One last, dim moan from up ahead snapped him back to his senses. He pushed himself up, shrieking with pain as he tried to put pressure on the leg. _

Oh, damn…oh, damn, it hurts so much!

_He forced himself through sheer willpower to take a step forward, and then another, and another. Red-hot pain darted up and down his entire body—he choked, too-red blood jetting from his mouth to splatter onto the broken concrete below—but he refused to let himself fall. _

_"Riza….Riza, please, I'm coming….please…Riza…" He mumbled her name over and over again, the sound of it enough to keep his body from collapsing. But still, even that was beginning to lose its effect…his body screamed and begged to stop… _

_Roy staggered around another corner, more dead then alive. He knew this was the end, he knew he couldn't go any further… _

_Then his desperate eyes caught sight of a figure lying crumpled in front of him. _

_"Rizaaa!" he pleaded. "Get up! Get up!" _

_For a second, there was no movement, but then she stirred, and lifted her head up, looking over at him. She wavered, obviously straining simply to keep her head off the bloodstained ground. _

_"R…R-Roy…." he heard her choke out, weakly. _

_"Noo…" He looked up at the sky, which was so filled with burning embers that it almost seemed to be aflame itself. "Noo…don't you take her, damn it, don't you take her!_!_" He wasn't sure who he was cursing at—the god he didn't believe in? Himself? Maybe both… _

_His leg finally gave out and he sank to his knees. Fear and panic drove him onward, though, and he began to drag himself towards Riza, ignoring the sharp, agonizing fury racking his entire body. He was so close…so damn close…he knew, without a doubt, just like before, that if he reached her in time, it would be ok again. All he had to do was to reach out and touch her, even briefly, and she'd be ok…they'd be able to escape this land of bloated nightmares together…all he had to do was reach her… _

_She looked at him with her amber eyes filled with pain. She was saying something, but the words didn't reach his ears. _

_"Don't worry," he told her, told himself, "I won't let you down. I promise…!" _

_The minute the words were out of his mouth, it happened. His body gave one last, painful jerk—and Roy found himself unable to budge, his body from the waist down feeling like so much lead. _

_"W-What….?_!_" He gasped, horror-struck. "N-No, no, noo…!" He strained with all his might, to move even an inch forward. Even an inch more, and he'd be able to get to Riza. "Please!_!_" he begged. "Just one more inch! Just one…more…damn…inch_!_!" _

_It was no use. He remained trapped, unable to move even slightly. "Oh, shit…no_!_! This isn't happening_!_! This** can't** be happening_!_!" _

_Riza looked at him, her eyes pleading. With every passing second her head sank lower… _

_"No!_!_ Oh, fuck, I'm sorry!_!_ Hang on, Riza, please! Oh shit……oh **shit**!_!_" _

_Her eyes flickered shut, a thin stream of blood dripping from her mouth. Roy felt a surge of raw anger and misery so strong as to be uncontrollable. _

_"God damn it…god damn it_**!_ Damn it!_!_"_**_ His body fell forward with a lurch, and he found himself able to move again. He threw himself forward, blinded by rage, the world twisting around him dizzily, the darkest part of hell opening up underneath him… _

_He was just in time. _

_Just in time to see her head finally slump over, and her hands, which had been clenched over her stomach, drop limply to the ground. Roy didn't have to check her pulse to tell that she was dead. Even as he pulled her into his lap, he knew. _

_"Noo…" _

_A few faint curses came to his lips, but he found himself unable to breathe properly, much less speak. The dull buzzing had returned to his ears, and a strange, dead numbness was creeping its way through him towards his heart. His breath came out in harsh little gasps….his stomach rolled over and he would have puked again had there been anything left in him to throw up. The world was still spinning cruelly, and the flames behind him darted closer, eager to find something new to devour. He clutched convulsively at the body in his arms, as if anything he did now to save her had any point, any purpose to it. _

_"I was so close, though…" he whispered. "I mean…I was so close…and I promised her…I was so close…" _

_His mind was spinning far too fast for him to understand how foolish it was to try and argue with death. _

_He stared unseeingly down at her, at the still-bleeding bullet hole. He couldn't quite accept the awesome finality of it all. How could such a small piece of metal end her life the way it had? His body began to tremble uncontrollably, and he made no effort to move when an especially curious tendril of fire inched close enough to drop searing ashes on the back of his uniform. He ignored the burning sensation the cinders left him, still huddled over Riza's body, stupidly protecting her minutes after the fact…. _

_It was then, as he cradled her body with a reverence bordering on sheer madness, did he notice the gun still strapped to her side. _

_Quickly, without pausing to think it over or even plan it out, he reached over and gently loosened the gun from its holster. He brought it up close to his face, rubbing his thumb over the trigger. The smooth metal gleamed at him, looking like the friendliest of signs. Somehow, the gun had remained spotless, not a spec of dirt or dust or blood on it anywhere. How odd… _

_Roy smiled faintly. _

_His hand moved on its own and placed the barrel against his head. Oddly enough, he felt no fear, no terror of the unknown, now that it came down to it. The thought crossed his mind, _how stupid that men spend their entire lives worrying about something so wonderful…_he looked down once more at the motionless figure at his feet, took one deep breath…and pulled the trigger. _

_**Bam**! _

_Pain too terrible to be described shot through him. Doubling over, senseless with agony, not aware that he was screaming at the top of his lungs, Roy gagged, feeling fresh, warm blood gush down either side of his face. Moaning now, he waited desperately for the final plunge into the next world… _

_But it never came. In disbelief, he realized that he was no closer to dying then he had been a minute ago. _

"_N-No-oo!_!_" he cried out. "This isn't…isn't possible_!_! It isn't…it isn't…" _

_His thoughts raced madly, _I just shot myself point-blank in the head! I should be dead!** I should be dead!**

_Frantically, half-crazed by now with fear and confusion and pain, he shot himself again and again, in the head, stomach, heart…but to no avail. No matter where he aimed, he remained miserably, helplessly, alive. The sudden and terrible realization came to him: _I can't die. I can't end this. I can't…I can't…

_He stared, scared out of his wits, down at Riza again. Suffering that had nothing to do with his physical injuries smashed into him as he tasted his unwanted immortality. He could never die, never join her….he would never see her again--! _

**_Blam_**!

"No!"

Roy shot up in bed, eyes wide and the sheets sticking to him with sweat. His hair was plastered down to his skull, and it felt like he was having a heart attack, his heart was racing so furiously. Outside, rain continued to smash against the glass, and the wind rattled the window pains. A bolt of lighting jotted through the sky, followed almost immediately by another roar of thunder so loud it shook the house. He ran a hand that still shook slightly through his hair, somehow more exhausted then he'd been before he'd closed his eyes.

_God damn… _

He shook his head, waiting for his heart to slow. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so glad to wake up. Oh, sure, he'd had more then his fair share of nightmares; he was certainly used to dreading going to sleep. Dreaming about the fiery hell of Ishbal was a routine thing by now. But this time… Roy gritted his teeth as he realized that tonight was the first time Riza'd ever been in one of his nightmares.

The room turned a brief yellow as another flash of lighting lit up the sky. He glanced around at the bedroom, which was the cramped, messy apartment one would expect from Central City's leading bachelor. Clothes were heaped all over the place, a radio that had been broken for weeks sat on a rickety end table, and the amount of dust on the window sills showed that Roy had dusted…maybe once….in about, say….ten years. Lying on top of the clothing pile nearest the bed was a dress, which obviously wasn't his. He turned at looked at the girl snoring next to him. She didn't seem to have noticed the fact that he'd been trembling next to her for half the night.

Roy sighed, really regretting the fact that he wasn't drunk. At least his date seemed content. He really didn't remember too many of last night's details…he knew there'd been sex involved, but after awhile, all the girls began to blur together. The girl he'd screwed last night could have just as easily been the girl from three weeks ago. For his part, Roy felt just as unsatisfied afterwards, even as the girl babbled on and on about what a wonderful love-maker he was. He hadn't had the strength to explain that screwing someone and love-making were completely different things. He'd had sex with plenty of girls, fine…but he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually made love to someone. There sure as hell hadn't been any love last night.

The date—dammit, what was her _name_! Gina? Tina? Something like that…--rolled closer to him, and he wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol that still clung to her skin. If it was Riza lying next to him, tonight would have been different….

"Riza…" he murmured. The date opened one eye-lid for a second.

"Whaddya call me?" she mumbled drunkenly, still more then half-asleep. "S'not a very nice name….call me somethin' better, honey….mm…" She was snoring again.

Roy flipped over onto his side, as far away from her as he could get without falling over the edge of the bed. He was awake, listening to the thunder, for a long time before sleep finally overtook him.

* * *

AN- gah, i'm sorry, but i hadda make that dream as horrible as possible. i figured that for roy, it'd be worse if he couldnt die after everything, so thats why i didnt kill him off. sadly, i havent started the next chapter yet (blame my crazed english teacher and her damn 'new project every other day' thing) so i dunno when i'll be able to update again. i'll try to make it asap, but i dont like to rush writing-wise. i promise that i'll update eventually, tho! and i'll still check my reviews (i'm somewhat obsessed ;;) so review, please! 

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EDIT- 9/30/06---wow, did this take forever to do. Oops. I tried to tone down the Date a bit; she was coming off as a caricature of a character, not a character. Honestly, though, what I'm working on now for this paring is WAY better then this thing. Eh...


	8. Chapter 7

AN- **traceyCoder-** oh, gosh, reading fanfiction instead of homework is very bad...'course, i do it all the time anyway, but...heh. maybe my lack of studying for anything is why my spelling sucks so badly (basterd-bastard, apparently ;;) thanks SO MUCH for the compliments-it really rocks, getting such amazing reviews. as of right now, roy wont be dating anyone else (including Riza, you ask? well, i dont wanna give it ALL away XD)...and, since everyone seems to hate The Date so much, i may have to do something horrible to her, just for fun. XD that'll be in the last chapter if at all, tho.

**flOofymikO-** wow...i'm at a loss...seriously, these reviews totally bring up my days! i'll keep doin' my best to deserve 'em!

HI ALL. wheee, i'm back! i squeezed in as much writin' time as i possibly could, so that i could get back here faster. this chapter's a shorter one, that pretty much just shows the results of Friday's dating disaster. it doesnt really bring up any new issues, but it does lead into the next chapter, which'll be the start of the action (FINALLY!). i really could have just combined this chapter with the next one, as i'm not sure it's good enough to stand on its own, but i really wanted to post again. just look at this as an effort for me to get back in the groove.**

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**disclaimer--don't own. sad, i know.**

**Separate Ways **

"Ahh! Goddamn paper shit! Quit disorganizing yourself!"

Roy sat at his desk, trying furiously to sort out all the crap in front of him. Papers that he should have mailed out weeks ago lay crumpled up on top of Edward Elric's latest report, which he still hadn't gotten around to reading yet, and forms long past due kept falling off the desk altogether. There was, to be perfectly frank, more paper then there was desk space to hold it all.

From somewhere underneath all the junk, the phone began ringing, its sound muffled. Roy cursed and began digging through the disheveled piles, looking for the phone, but all he found were more files.

"Damn it, where the hell's the phone- oh, come on!!"

A large stack of heavy research documents chose that moment to fall on him. After finding his way to the surface--he gave up on finding the phone--he grabbed the nearest report and stared at it. His brows furrowed as he realized it was one he'd already filled out last week. As the supervisor of his office, he was supposed to send out the paperwork once he was done with it, but as Roy Mustang, he was usually too lazy to finish all the crud, much less hand it in. That kind of disregard for work was the kind that could get a cocky colonel already disliked by his higher-ups in a lot of trouble, but Roy had a safeguard against being caught, otherwise known as First Lieutenant Hawkeye.

He remembered well the first time he'd forgotten to send stuff out in his eagerness to meet up with his latest date: he'd gone rushing back to the office that Monday certain he was in for it. Instead, he'd stared in disbelief at the desk in front of him—not only had the forms been sent out, but his desk was neater then he'd ever seen it. It was kind of scary, really…he could actually _see_ the desk! Knowing full well the only person who'd been there when he'd left was Riza, he'd turned to thank her, but she'd acted like she hadn't done a thing. Obviously Roy knew that was an act…what confused him was why she'd done it at all. But, whatever the reason, he would come in on Mondays to see his desk clean, organized, and actually safe to be within a hundred miles of. Every Monday, without fail….except for this Monday.

Mustang sighed and dropped the report onto the nearest pile. What was he thinking? After all the shit he caused, he was still expecting her to be cleaning up after him? He stole a glance at Riza. She was reading a file, brows creased in concentration, deliberately not looking up. Usually the two of them would talk while they worked- or rather, while Riza worked and Roy pretended he couldn't see the hundreds of files in front of him. Not today. Today, they sat in uncomfortable silence, speaking only to ask a question on a report or to locate a document. The stillness between the two of them was so unpleasant that Second Lieutenant Havoc, who was usually in Roy's office at this time of day, had abandoned ship as soon as he possibly could, muttering something about a manuscript he had to look up.

"Ergh….fricken waste of my time…"

Scrawling a messy version of his name onto some month-old work order, Roy tossed it onto the rather small finished pile and grabbed another sheet. For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the scratching of pen against paper, and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

_Tick…tick….tick…. _

Roy thought he was going to go crazy in a second. He stopped writing and looked up at Riza again. Now she was stapling two papers together, and underlining a third, all the while reading a thick report on alchemy research. It had always amazed Roy how she could do three or four things at once….especially since he had trouble just doing one.

_Tick…tick…tick…_

Roy groaned loudly and threw his pen down. He saw Riza's head jerk slightly, as if she'd been about to look up at him but had stopped herself. He tried to bring himself to say something to her, but his mouth wouldn't work.

God, he hated this.

He tried to focus on the paper in front of him, but it wasn't working too well. For one thing, he was exhausted. A weekend of binge drinking had culminated in the world's worst hangover. Although that was to be expected, considering he'd broken open his first bottle of booze around noon on Saturday, and had passed out sometime--he wasn't too sure, considering how wasted he'd been--close to midnight on Sunday.

Sunday night, he'd been treated to yet another nightmare as a result of his unhappiness, Friday's disaster, and all the alcohol. This one had been almost the same as Friday's, with the slight difference that Riza had blamed him entirely as she died. It had rattled him so much that he'd gone into the bathroom and swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills; he hadn't bothered to read the usage directions for them, even though he knew that was dangerous. (Frankly, after just having watched his lieutenant die for the second time in three nights, the idea of an 'eternal rest' sounded like a pretty damn good idea.) But, of course, Monday morning found him at the office, groggy and out of it, with the woman that he'd been fixated over all weekend ignoring him completely.

_Tick...tick….tick…. _

The Colonel couldn't take it anymore. He opened his mouth to say something, but Riza beat him to it.

"This file needs your signature, sir," she informed him quietly. "I already filled out all the information it required."

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, not meeting her eye. She made a noise as if she was going to say something else, but when he finally looked up, she was staring down at the carpet. He sighed again and stood up.

Riza glanced at him. "Do you want something, sir?" He shook his head.

"Hawkeye, this is stupid."

She looked at him, uncertain. "Sir…?"

"Why the hell are we…." He stopped, clenching his fists as guilt took hold of him again. No matter how many times it hit him, he simply could not get used to feeling like such an asshole…he simply could not accept the knowledge that he was the reason everything was so fucked up…damn…why the hell were they acting like this?

_Oh, come on, Mustang, you already know the answer to that…_and if he needed any more reminding, all he had to do was envision the burning hell of his dreams…

"Roy Mustang, you have some serious explaining to do!"

Roy looked up, startled, as Hughes barged in, looking _very _unhappy. "I go to all that trouble—I was looking _forward_ to it—you are such a moron!"

"Nice to see you too," Roy grumbled, sitting back down. Riza followed suit, not looking at Hughes. If Roy didn't know better, he'd say she looked uneasy…

"Don't give me that, you jerk." Hughes was so filled with righteous indignation, he didn't even notice Riza. "We were talking about it for over an _hour._ You _swore _you'd go through with it. And what do you do? You totally screw things up, I mean, you should have seen—"

"Hughes!" Realization hit him in the nick of time, and Roy leapt to his feet, glaring furiously at his friend. "You moron, don't talk about that _here_!"

Hughes looked surprised. "Why no—" His eyes fell on Riza and he gulped. "Oh, oops. My bad…"

Roy growled in frustration, and Riza flushed darkly. She stood up, her chair scrapping against the floor. "Excuse me, sirs. I didn't mean to intrude."

"Argh….no, Riz--Hawkeye, it's not…I mean, we…you…"

Hughes decided he'd better take over for his desperately fumbling friend. "No, Lieutenant, you don't have to leave. You're not intruding on anything…._right_, Roy?"

But Roy didn't say anything. What could he say? He _didn't _want Riza there to hear what Hughes had to talk about. He _didn't_ want to have to look into her eyes and fantasize about what could have, should have, _might_ have been. And he didn't want Riza to think even less of him then she already did…if that was even possible at this point.

" _Roy_." Hughes gave his friend a 'what-the-heck-is-wrong-with-you-say-something' look, but it was too late. Riza's expression was guarded as always, but a faint red tinge on her cheeks showed her inner mortification.

"I apologize. I'll leave the two of you alone so you can talk." She turned on her heel and left, the door slamming shut behind her. Roy winced slightly at the bang, but otherwise he didn't move.

Hughes sighed. "I don't suppose I have to tell you how stupid that was, right?"

Roy smirked, bitterly. "Yeah, I know. But it's ok."

His friend blinked. "…What…?"

"It's ok," Roy repeated, still smiling sardonically. "I'd rather have her hate my guts then be wasting away after me. Maybe if I'm really lucky she'll move on to someone else. Then at least _she'll_ be happy."

"'Move on to someone else...!?'" Hughes gaped at the colonel. "Please tell me I'm hearing things! Move on to someone _else?_! How the heck will that make things better?"

"Simple math, Hughes. Roy plus Hawkeye equals total and complete misery. Hawkeye plus some other guy equals happiness on her part. Something's better then nothing, right?"

"Are you out of your _mind!_? You honestly think Riza forgetting about you will fix everything? What about _you?_! _You'll _still be miserable!"

"Yeah, well…" Roy shrugged. "Maybe I deserve to be miserable."

"And maybe you _don't_." Hughes rubbed his temples. "Dammit, don't you think you've beaten yourself up for what happened in Ishbal long enough? You're not a god, Roy, you're _human_. Humans screw up. Humans make mistakes. You can't keep trying to drive yourself insane because of what you did. You don't deserve that any more then the rest of us!"

"It's easy for you to say, Hughes. You…" Roy turned and looked out the window, seeing but not seeing the crowds going about their daily lives on the streets below. "You weren't there. The things I did…"

_Faceless creatures tearing at the walls, at themselves, trying to escape from the fire that surrounds them. In times of war, people are not people, they are animals, inferior beings that do not deserve the life God has given them. These are the lessons the military teaches its soldiers…they feed their men lines carefully created and sweetened with saccharine reasoning, and as if by magic the guilt that is war's bridegroom fades away… _

_The enemy does not deserve life. The enemy does not deserve peace or happiness or that sweet, cool freedom that comes from taking a breath not filled with burning ash. It's a truth created by the military, but it's still a **truth**, and it's all Roy Mustang has to hold onto as he goes about his job. His job is not to teach or to heal or to create, his job is to destroy, and he cannot do it as long as he believes that the frantic souls trying to escape him are humans. So he tells himself that it's perfectly fine to regurgitate the answers crafted by his superiors. Who would expect anything less? _

_But his mind simply refuses to believe the doctrine everyone else seems to accept without skipping a beat, no matter what ill-conceived mantra spills from his tongue. (Whenever he can—so much so that he's created a reputation for vanity--he looks into mirrors to see if that particular body part's become forked; he feels like some sort of low-crawling snake, so why shouldn't he expect his appearance to look the same?) _

_Mirrors aren't his only bane. __Roy__ cannot keep himself from staring into the terrified red irises of a frightened Ishbalan child without wondering why he is doing what he is doing. He cannot imagine these people as animals…. _

_…until the day he snaps his fingers and a building full of frightened people becomes a burning cage crammed with panicked animals trying to endure. He stands in horrified amazement as people trample their relatives, friends, loved ones, in an effort to escape. He watches as the soldiers (his **allies**!) shoot those who somehow manage to dodge the flames and make it out. He watches as a little girl stands crying and alone, and as everyone else pushes past her in their effort to survive. He watches the grin of the soldier next to him as he takes careful aim into the already-crumbling building. He stands, and he watches, and by the end of the day, he no longer has trouble believing people are animals. _

_(Still….to him, the enemy is not the only sadistic one; the men on his side are just as inhumane. **He **is just as inhumane. **He **has caused this chaos, and** he** is the vicious, bloodthirsty animal.) _

_Faceless creatures trying to escape from the death that surrounds them…but everything's fair in death and war, so who bothers to care…? _

"You don't know the things I did, Hughes."

"You _had_ to. It was a war, you were under _orders_."

"No, Maes." Roy looked back at his friend. He no longer sounded angry, or upset, or bitter…just sad. Just very tired, and very sad. "I can't hide under that excuse. If I was really a good person, I would have refused. I would have deserted, or something…"

"And thrown away your life?"

"It was the right thing to do. I didn't do it."

"Neither did a lot of people, Roy."

"Doesn't matter." Roy couldn't meet Hughes's eyes anymore. "Hughes, I…"

_'You killed him?' _

_Roy stares down in horror at the crumpled body lying at his feet, its blood soaking into the earth. _

_'Why'd you kill him?' _

_I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to… _

_'You were under orders not to use force unless extremely necessary. Besides, this kid's barely ten years old.' _

_I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to… _

_'Some of the other men say he tripped and you got startled. That true?' _

_He tripped, he tripped….in actuality, __Roy__ hadn't been startled, not too badly anyway. He managed to get a hold of himself quickly but he still pulled the trigger…something in him wanted to see the Ishbalan die…the savage beast that lurks in everyone reared its ugly head. _

_'Eh, don't worry about it, shit happens. What's one Ishbalan, anyway?' _

_I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to…I didn't mean to…I… _

_…God…! _

" Roy." Hughes sounded sympathetic, but firm none the less. "Stop it. Stop acting as if you're the only one who ever got scared, or who ever killed someone that didn't deserve to die."

"You don't _get_ it, Maes. You can't get it! You weren't there…"

"No, I wasn't. But Hawkeye was, and she still cares about you. She doesn't blame you for what happened."

"Well, she should. I don't understand why she doesn't."

Hughes let out a frustrated sigh. "_Becaus_e. She _loves_ you, Roy! You know that as well as I do, you're just too busy feeling sorry for yourself to do anything about it. And you're wrong, by the way, if you think she'd ever find some other guy and live happily ever after. She's gonna stick by you even if she _is_ suffering inside. You're making things _worse_."

"Fine," Roy snapped. "I'm making everything worse. That's okay, I'm used to it by now!"

"Come on, Mustang, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying I think you're making a huge mistake—"

_"I don't care what you think!"_ Roy whirled around, knocking papers off his desk so that they wafted around him. "I don't give a damn what you think! Who the hell are you to give me advice! Look at you! Perfect fucking wife, perfect fucking kid, perfect fucking everything. My life isn't so damn _perfect_! You go home every day to an adoring family, come to work and drag their pictures with you. You think anyone gives a fuck about them besides you?! I'm glad for you, you got lucky. You got to sit at a goddamn desk and file fucking papers during the war. You don't wake up every night to an empty house! You have a bad day—you dream about everyone you killed coming back for you, then fine, Gracia's there to make it all better. Not me, though, I get something better then a wife. I get to go to the bathroom and pop sleeping pills!"

There was silence. Roy slumped down into his chair and buried his head in his arms. Hughes stood stiffly in front of him, rare anger twisting his features.

"Oh, god damn it…" The colonel groaned, wearily. "I'm sorry, Maes. I didn't mean that. I don't know where that came from."

"…Eh, it's ok." Hughes gave him a friendly smile, and Roy felt his heart leap at his best friend's quick forgiveness. "You've been dealing with a lot of shit, lately, and besides…Gracia and Elysia _are_ perfect! I don't blame you for being jealous!"

Roy gave a weak chuckle. "Good old Hughes….seriously though, I'm sorry."

"Forget it. Romance does weird things to people. I know it sure screwed with me, why, after my first date with Gracia, I was so out of it I wandered into some random woman's house and woke up the next morning with a bunch of cops staring at me!"

Roy, having heard this story many, many times—usually when both he and Hughes were drunk—snorted.

"It wasn't funny! The lady thought I was trying to rob her, and the cops thought I was on drugs! Of course, I _was _on something….I was on that miraculous high that only the greatest woman in the world could bring! I was on cloud nine, I was in heaven, I was—"

"Hughes."

"Yes?"

"Shut up now."

* * *

Riza stood against the wall outside the colonel's office, waiting for him and Hughes to finish up. Dull embarrassment was still coursing through her system, however well she hid it. The colonel had always discussed everything of importance with her, whether it be about a top-secret case or the Elric Brothers' search for the Philosopher's Stone. Secretly, it'd always been a matter of pride for Riza, that he'd always trusted her to that degree. But if that was a fact….if he really did trust her…then why had he, for all intents and purposes, just kicked her out of his office? 

She sighed. She was tired of worrying so much about all of this. She was tired of feeling so damn vulnerable. She had _cried_—in front of _Lieutenant Colonel Hughes_, no less. That in itself was enough to drive her crazy! And then it had happened _again,_ in front of _the colonel! _Luckily, she was pretty sure he'd assumed it was the rain. Riza really cursed the day she'd ever been so stupid as to fall in love with Roy Mustang; look at all the trouble she was causing. She should have known better anyway. Roy was a notorious flirt, why had she bothered to think she'd be able to change that?

Riza wondered idly what time it was. She didn't like wasting time at work, not when there was so much of it. She was so stupid…she was even letting this whole mess come between her and her job. _Supporting the colonel is infinitely more important then whatever personal problems I may be having,_ she told herself for the hundredth time. _His goal of becoming leader of this country and fixing its problems should be my first and only concern._

God, how many times had she thought that? She knew that she shouldn't be wasting time on such trivial matters as an--illegal--office romance…or at least her mind knew it. Her heart was having trouble catching up.

_Really, though,_ she mused, _after Friday I should have been able to come to terms with it all._ Riza was still smarting from that encounter with the colonel and his date. Of course, she had no official opinion of the Flame Alchemist's choice…(although, unofficially, she wanted to put a bullet in her skull). But, never mind the annoyingness of the girl herself; just the fact that she was the kind of girl Roy Mustang was interested in spelled doom for whatever hopes she'd still had after that afternoon. Riza was not the kind of person to delude herself for a moment's relief. She knew better then to be so short-sighted. And she also knew that if that blond bimbo was the type of girl Roy wanted, then he did _not_ want her.

The differences between the two were enormous, to put it lightly. The Date had been attractive in a slutty sort of way, immaculately dressed, and wore so much makeup it looked like she was wearing a mask. Her clothes had been perfectly spotless and dry—even in the rain. (Which, irritatingly enough, had yet to let up). It annoyed Riza that the other girl would be so self-centered as to allow the colonel to get soaked…it annoyed her even more that the colonel, who she knew hated the rain with a passion, hadn't said anything.

Personal grievances aside, Riza had to admit that she was nothing like The Date Roy had been so infatuated with. During their little encounter, she'd been dripping wet, frustrated, and attempting to wipe the gluey mud off her hands and knees. (A second ago she'd been trying to coax Hayate out of that damn bush, with minimal results.) Her clothes were certainly not designer; she wouldn't have wasted her money even if her salary allowed for such frivolousness. She wore no makeup and no jewelry—the latter got in the way of her shooting, and the former just irritated her. And personality-wise, she was the exact opposite of The Date. She wasn't loud, rude, pushy, or demanding…which she'd always considered a good thing, but…

But it was a shame that seemed to be the exact _opposite_ of what Roy wanted. He seemed to desire a 'delicate, feminine beauty', not a gun-toting first lieutenant who was known for the decidedly _un_feminine talent of being able to shoot a man clean through the heart from several feet away--without even looking. Not that she lamented having that ability, but.…it was a shame she wasn't more like the type of girl Roy was taken with…

Dammit! This was so stupid. Why was she wasting her time comparing herself to someone else? What good could that possibly do?

Hearing footsteps, Riza glanced over to see Lieutenant Havoc rushing down the hall towards her, clutching a large folder crammed with papers in his hands. She closed her eyes for a second, steeling herself for a day that promised to be nothing if not trying. Then she turned to face Havoc.

_I'll just take it one step at a time,_ she decided, determined to not lose her composer again. If Roy wanted to waste his time with idiots like that ditz, then fine.

There was absolutely nothing she could do about it anyway…and either she was going to finally accept that…or she was going to lose her mind trying.

* * *

AN- man, roy dropped the f-bomb about 50 times in this chapter...like i said, chapter 8 has action in it...Havoc's bringing some intresting news. what does it mean for roy, riza, and their already-screwed up relationship? i'll let ya know after i write it ;; unfortunatly, from now on there'll be a lot of gaps in between posts...at the very least, i wont be posting every day anymore. but o well. i named this chapter Separate Ways 'cause i kinda see it as roy n riza both trying to move past the romance, albeit in rather stressful ways. whether or not they stay apart remains to be seen, heh heh... 

...you know you're not normal when you find yourself sitting at the computer typing away...in full ninja gear, complete with a mask, sword, and daggers. whaaat, i just got back from a haloween party! XD

--

EDIT 12/21/06-- Not much to say. Fixed some stuff, left some stuff, winced at the stupidity of my author's notes...heh. OOCness overwhelms as usual.


	9. Chapter 8

AN- **tracyCoder-** yah, i agree about Roy. The prob is, its so obvious to an outsider (which is why Hughes is going nuts, lol) but not so much to the person its actually happening to...or somethin like that. XD as for talking 2 each other normally again, yes, in thic chapter they kinda have to. their problems sure as hell aint over tho!

**flOofymikO- **i know! i dont want it to end either! i have at **least** 4 more chapters to go, but i can almost guarentee a lot more.

**unexpectation-** yes, Hughes rocks! i was deliberating as to whether'r not to drag out his lil fight with roy, but i figured Roy had enough to deal with already. plus, Maes's too understanding a guy to drag it out. and happy halloween to you too! (like 5 days after the fact, lol)

MEH, i lied. no action in this chappy, T.T (i wound up splitting it in 2 again). but it does lead INTO the action...for any fan who's seen so much as one fma episode, a large chunk of this'll be a 'no shit, sherlock' moment. please bare with me, a non-anime obsessed friend wants to read this, and i'm trying to make it so she has somewhat of a clue, anyway.

please hang on, action fans, there's blood on the way. the first fight, which is DEFENETLY next chapter, includes Riza and a certain homunculi...

* * *

**The Beginning**

"F-First Lieutenant!"

Havoc skidded to a stop in front of Riza, panting, his ever-present cigarette daggling from his lower lip. She looked at the usually-relaxed second lieutenant curiously, wondering what it was that had him in such an uproar.

"Second Lieutenant Havoc, is something wrong?"

"Where's the colonel? This is major!"

"In his office…" Riza instantly went into work mode, pushing aside all her private problems. Something big enough to get _Havoc_ excited had to be extremely important, to say the least. "Why, what is it?"

"It's…there's a on, I have to tell Mustang!" He scurried into the room without waiting for an answer; Riza frowned slightly in annoyance but followed him in anyway.

Roy and Hughes both looked up when the door was flung open and Havoc ran in, followed by a peeved-looking Hawkeye. Roy opened his mouth angrily, but Havoc interrupted him, talking quickly and waving the file he was holding around animatedly.

"Mustang, chief, you are never gonna believe this!"

"Believe what?" Roy looked at the lieutenant, raising an eyebrow. "Havoc, if this is about you finally getting a girl…"

"No, no, just listen! I found this file—hell, I wasn't even looking for it, I was digging through the back of the storage room. You know how long some of that crap's been in there. Well, anyway, I was digging around, and I found this file, it looked like it was a copy, but here's the weird part—I looked in the military's database down at the library, and the original copy isn't there. It 'doesn't exist.' Someone obviously tried to destroy the file but didn't realize there was another copy, so—"

"Havoc, what the heck are you _talking_ about!?"

Havoc paused for breath, deliberately dragging out the moment because, well…that's just the kind of guy he was. Roy was deliberating as to whether or not snapping his fingers would trash his office along with Havoc, when the man finally spoke.

"Sir…_I found a way to kill homunculi."_

Dead silence.

Everyone stared at the man like he had two heads, and Riza found herself shaking her own head in disbelief. It couldn't be true…the whole _definition_ of a homunculus was that it couldn't be killed!

Roy blinked, his expression incredulous. "Havoc, you know what, take the rest of the week off. It looks like you've been working waaay too hard."

"I'm _serious_! Look, it says right here!"

Despite himself, Roy leaned in to take a look, Hughes reading quickly over his shoulder. Riza moved closer to read too, wondering if it was at all possible, what Havoc was saying. If it was—not that there was any way it _could_ be, but if it _was_…then…

If it _was_ possible, then things had just gotten a hell of a lot easier. They'd been trying to figure out a way to destroy the homunculi for a long time now, ever since they'd first found out that they even existed. Roy and his group—Riza, Hughes, Fury, Havoc, Breida, Falman, and Armstrong—had known about the existence of these creatures, these immortal demons that were supposedly only a fairy tale, for close to five years, give or take. It was Edward Elric who'd gotten them involved at all—he was searching, along with his younger brother, Alphonse, for the Philosopher's Stone, a mystical alchemic enhancement that most said was simply a bedtime story. But, real or not, the legend of the Stone and its power drew hundreds of treasure-seekers and alchemists eager to learn its secrets. With this marvel, it was said, one could bypass all the rules of alchemy--something could be created from nothing, people could be raised from the dead.

In short, the Philosopher's Stone gave its user the power to do anything…the power to play god.

Ed and Al were looking for the stone to right their personal wrongs; in a desperate attempt to bring back their dead mother, they had tried to use alchemy to revive her. To their childish minds, it was a perfect idea…

But in their eagerness, they forgot something very important: bringing the dead to life was a cardinal sin in alchemy, and the cost for such hubris was high.

Very high.

Ed had been lucky, considering: he only lost his leg. His not-so-fortunate younger brother had his _entire body_ enveloped in the idea of 'equivalent exchange', the chief tenet of alchemy, and it was only because Ed loved him that he survived at all. Edward, desperate, had exchanged his right arm for his brother's soul, and then sealed that soul in a suit of armor. Now, one brother had auto-mail in place of his missing limbs; the other was a giant walking 'tin can'.

The two brothers were determined to fix things; Ed, who hated following someone else's orders, even joined the military as a state alchemist, hoping to find some way of getting his brother's body back. What they found instead was the Philosopher's Stone…and the evil that surrounded it.

The Stone was thought to be cursed--anyone who got too close to it died or vanished. The brothers were resolved, though; they were going to get their bodies back, no matter what the stories said.

Those stories, though, were hardly just make-believe rumors…during their long and confusing search, Ed and Alphonse discovered the high price required: _living humans_. It was human beings who were needed for the Philosopher's Stone to be formed…lots of them, in fact. Whole battlefields' worth.

And the brothers also learned that they were not the only ones interested in finding this elixir of life. It was being hunted as well by strange, mysterious beings called Homunculi: powerful creatures who _could not die_. Endlessly, they searched for the Stone…or the next best thing, which was anyone strong enough to make one. Powerful Edward Elric became their number one target.

(The stone was no myth…and neither was its curse.)

In theory, this should not have affected Roy Mustang at all. Even if he _was_ Edward's commanding officer, the alchemist had his own goals to achieve.

Roy was going to become the ruler of the military—he'd decided this long ago, and hadn't forgotten once since. It was what he struggled for…what he suffered for…it was his only goal…because only once he had the power to fix the many problems caused by the soldiers in blue, would he finally be able to live with himself and let his demons rest. He had to realize his ambition…_had_ to.

But, of course, things never worked out the way they were planned. The military, under the leadership of President-King Bradley, was embroiled in some strange experiments involving the Stone…in fact, as time drew on, it became all too clear that the higher-ups were in total and complete cahoots with the same homunculi Edward fought.

And, as if that wasn't enough…King Bradley was a homunculus himself.

Considering how ruthless, inhumane, and _strong_ these creatures were, it was a pretty goddamn serious problem. But as of yet, Roy hadn't been able to do much of anything. Homunculi couldn't be killed—even cutting their heads off didn't work. At the same time, though they couldn't use alchemy, they also had bizarre powers…bizarre, _deadly_ powers.

Not helping was the fact that these beings moved in absolute secrecy. He'd been trying for years, but so far, Roy had no idea what these creatures wanted with the Philosopher's Stone, where they'd come from…or even how many of them there were. He knew of a few…King Bradley, of course, as well as a beautiful but dangerous one named Lust…an enormous beast called Gluttony…a vicious monster known as Envy, whose power to transform into anyone and anything was perhaps the most disturbing of all. But Roy knew in his heart that there were more; strange rumors had reached his ears, of a little boy named Wrath who was somehow connected to Ed…of a homunculus dubbed 'The Ultimate Shield', who was said to border on the insane…of a mysterious woman whose face remained unknown, but whose voice was like ice…

The homunculi, thanks to Bradley, ran the government, the very core of the country. If the Flame Alchemist was to ever put Ishbal's mistakes behind him, he would have to find a way to defeat them. But how did you kill something that could never die?!

_Unless...! _

Riza's eyes widened as she finished reading the document in Havoc's hands. The way it was put, it really did sound possible…

Breida and Falman walked in just then, chatting. When they saw what was going on in the center of the room, they both stopped.

"Hey, what's up?" Breida asked. "T-That horrible beast isn't in here again, is he?" (He was just a _bit _afraid of Black Hayate, not to mention dogs in general.)

Roy grabbed the papers from Havoc's hands and began reading, his voice shaking slightly with excitement. '"…These odd creatures are not, in fact, immortal, as is commonly believed. Residing in each of them lies a small, red stone, otherwise known as the Philosopher's Stone. Not actually the full artifact of so much fame, these stones are somehow specifically designed to control the homunculi's regeneration process. Although useless once removed, these stones are what, essentially, keeps the homunculi alive. To destroy a homunculus, one must first destroy the stone."'

He turned the page over, but there was nothing else.

"I looked like hell, but this was all I could find," Havoc commented. "The papers were all scattered, and they're so _old_…whoever wrote this is long dead, I'd say."

"I wonder who _did_ write that…" Falman mused aloud. "How could they have known so much about homunculi?"

"Not the issue, not right now." Roy was deep in thought, his mind awhirl with the possibilities.

Riza gave him a sidelong glance, knowing full well how caught up and reckless he was liable to become. Normally, she would have said something, but….

"If this is true…" (Riza got the feeling Roy didn't even realize he was talking out loud.) "If this is true…then there's a way to kill Bradley. There's no one to replace him, the higher-ups are too busy bending over backwards to the enemy to worry about that now. Killing off Bradley would start off a whole domino effect, down to the lowest levels of the military….I'd be able to grab power…."

"Hey, hey, hold up a minute there, buster," Hughes interrupted. "Even if you do kill off Bradley, taking control of the military now'll start a whole civil war. You know as well as I do how fanatically loyal some of the big-wigs are—not to mention, you have the other homunculi to deal with. They won't be happy to hear that you off'ed one of their own."

"Heh…if this report's true, then who gives a crap. As long as those freaks can be killed, they're not a threat. And as for a civil war…" His eyes gleamed. "As for a civil war, I'm prepared for that. Have been for a long time. Of course, if anyone here doesn't feel up to the task, then they're welcome to back out…"

Everyone else in the room rolled their eyes. Obviously no one was going to back out.

"Don't kid yourself, chief." Havoc grinned, exhaling cigarette smoke in the process. "I know how much you wanna get rid of us, but we've stuck by you this long, might as well see ya through."

"Yeah, really," chimed in Breida, "You really think any of us would back out after all we've seen with you? The military'd _execute_ us if they found out how deep we are in this homunculi business."

Falman nodded his consent. "That's right, sir. None of us would ever abandon you. We want to see you become the leader of this country."

"Right on!!"

"…."

"…."

"….Hughes…"

"…What? I'm getting into the moment here."

"Alright, alright, I don't want to know," Roy said, rolling his eyes. "You don't have to get all teary-eyed on me, jeeze."

An awkward silence filled the room again. Roy squirmed inside--Riza was the only one who hadn't said anything.

She seemed to notice everyone trying their hardest _not_ to look at her; it appeared that Havoc had informed Breida and Falman about Roy and Riza's coolness towards one another that morning. She frowned, giving them a look that stated quite clearly how stupid she thought they were all behaving.

"It's rather pointless to ask the question if you already know the answer," she said briskly, "since of course the colonel must know that not one of us would ever betray him."

"Yeah, well…"

To cover up his embarrassment, Mustang turned back to Hughes. "I want you looking through every database the military's got, twenty four-seven, understand? See if you can find anything more about this file. Maybe there's another copy lying around. And Falman, get Fullmetal on the phone pronto—I want him up to date within the hour," he ordered. "Breida, find Armstrong and Fury, tell them too. But be careful about who's listening in; I don't want anyone else finding out." Breida and Falman saluted and left, taking Havoc with them.

Roy turned to look at Riza, who was watching him intently, waiting for her orders. He wished he could read minds so he'd know what she was thinking….what thoughts were running behind that calm mask she wore so diligently? She made it sound as if there was never any doubt about her serving him….but why? Why was she so loyal? What had he ever done to deserve that kind of devotion?

"Lieutenant, you should make sure this stays quiet. See if you can make up a good cover-story for all the research," Hughes told her, figuring that Roy didn't look like he was going to say anything any time soon.

"Yes sir," she nodded, and turned to go.

"Hey, Hawkeye," Roy said suddenly. She looked back at him, still expressionless.

"Sir?"

"Ah..." Roy gave her a weak version of his usual cocky grin. "Better not make any plans for a while, looks like we're about to have a crazy time on our hands for a while."

"…Yes sir." Her voice was as cold as it had ever been. The minute the door was closed behind her, he rubbed his throbbing temples.

"Goddamn it, this fricken hangover won't leave…"

"So, Roy…giving her space seems to be working wonders."

"Shut it, Hughes," Roy growled. "I'm not in the mood."

"Trust me, I've noticed," he answered dryly. Watching as Mustang sat back at his desk, looking as unhappy as ever, he sighed. "So…you really think that's true?"

"Huh?"

"You really think we're gonna have a 'crazy time' soon?"

Roy looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Why…you don't?"

Hughes pulled up a chair and sat down next to his friend. "I think you're rushing into this. We don't even have any verification that the file's correct."

"And we never will, unless we try it out. And there's only one way to do that, right?"

Hughes gave him a sharp look. "Listen, Roy, I'm not an idiot. The others may have convinced themselves otherwise, but I haven't. You know as well as I do how risky attacking Bradley would be with such weak data. I know you'd never put the lives of your men on the line like that."

"So…" Roy glanced up at him. "….What's your point?

Hughes grabbed Roy by the collar and pulled him in close, glaring. "You're planning on doing it alone, aren't you? You're planning on trying to fight off His Highness yourself. Dammit, Roy, don't you realize how _stupid_ that is—…." His voice trailed off as he saw the look in the Flame Alchemist's eyes. "….Hold on a second. You _do_ realize, don't you? That's your whole plan…if this file turns out to be wrong, there's no way you'd survive alone, without backup…that's what you want, isn't it? If things get screwed up, then you don't _want_ to come back…"

Roy pulled himself lose without saying anything.

"Roy, dammit, you'd better tell me I'm wrong! You'd better—"

"And why would I want to do that?" Hughes stared as Roy readjusted his collar, coolly. "You're right, Hughes, that _is_ my plan. It makes sense, don't you think? If things get so bad that I have to be _rescued_…dammit, Hughes, don't you get it? I'll never get another chance to take over if things get that bad! And if I can't run this country, then what the hell's the point? You're crazy if you think I'll spend the rest of my life being the state's _puppet_…..besides, they'd kill me anyway if Bradley got away. At least this way, they won't be able to trace it back to the others. As long as they escape the firing squad, I don't give a shit what happens to me."

_"Idiot!"_

Hughes punched his friend across the face, leaving a small, purple bruise. Roy lifted a hand to the wound, too surprised to do anything else, as Maes grabbed him by the collar again, eyes narrowed.

"Listen to me, damn it. I don't know where you got the idea that your life is useless, and I don't care. You want to go around hating yourself, fine, be my guest. But I'll be damned if I'm going to sit here and let you throw your life away."

Roy scowled at him. "Oh, excuse me, I had this silly idea that it was my choice to make."

"It's _not!_!" Roy blinked at him, his mouth dropping open at the intensity of Hughes's anger. "You got that? It's _not_ your choice. There are other people in this world, and hell if I know why, but some of us actually care about you. You can't honestly think that everyone will just get on with their daily lives with you six feet under. It doesn't _work_ that way, Roy."

"Oh, spare me, Maes." Roy pulled himself loose again and stood up, rubbing his cheek. "Somehow, I highly doubt the world will end if I'm not around. Besides, dying in the heat of battle….best way to go, right?" He smirked. Hughes wasn't amused.

"That idea's so stupid I don't think even you believe it," he growled. "Would you do me a favor and tell me what _happened_? You've always been a moron, but a determined moron! Not a moron who goes and throws his life away on a whim and a piece of paper!" When Roy didn't answer, he frowned and shook his head.

"Ok, you selfish jerk, you're right, the world won't end. But I'd sure as hell hate to see Riza at your funeral."

Roy colored slightly. "She'd get over it," he muttered, more to himself then Hughes. The Lieutenant Colonel resisted the urge to hit him again.

"You really have it drilled into your head that she hates you, don't you?"

"Whether she hates me or not isn't the point. The fact is, Hawkeye can deal with anything…and that includes someone dying."

"Oh, yeah, totally. She's only spent the last who knows how many years making sure you finish your paperwork and don't jump off a building. She certainly wouldn't care if you died, oh no, not at all. And in case you couldn't tell, that was sarcasm."

"I'm not saying she wouldn't care, I'm saying _she'd get over it_."

Hughes squirmed in his seat, not looking at the colonel. "Listen, Roy….I'm not so sure about that."

"…Oh yeah?" Roy turned, frowning. "And why is that?"

"…You seem to think she's going to forget all about you if you just ignore her a bit. It won't work, Roy. She's already _cried_ over you, she's not turning back now."

"What!? What the hell are you talking about!?"

"Last Friday, when you bailed on her like that…" Hughes sighed and looked at his friend; Mustang felt his stomach drop. "It was pretty obvious she was trying to control herself, but…she started crying, Roy."

"….Ah…" An atomic explosion could have gone off, and Roy wouldn't have noticed. He just stood there, mouth agape, staring at Hughes in utter and complete disbelief.

"She cried…because of _me_?" Hughes nodded. Roy fell back into his chair, paleing rapidly. "Holy shit…"

Hughes gave him a sympathetic smile. "Surprising, huh?" Roy didn't say anything. He _couldn't_ say anything! He'd gone completely numb.

_Riza cried…that can't be true…she's __**Riza**__, she's so strong…_

_But Hughes wouldn't joke…well, he would, but not about something like __**that**__! Riza actually cried!_

_Riza actually cried because of me... _

"See, that's what I keep telling you, Mustang," Hughes sighed. "You act like a big know-it-all, but most of the time, you have no idea what's going on."

"Uh-huh…"

"Sometimes it's like you're blind, deaf, _and_ dumb!"

"Alright, Hughes."

"I mean, it's really funny sometimes! You're always so out of it!"

"Okay, Hughes, I get the picture."

"Really, really out of it!"

"_Hughes._"

"So out of it, it's scary!"

"_Hughes!_!_"_

"I swear, all the alcohol you drink must have rotted your brain! Considering your reputation, you just better hope that weakness of the mind doesn't spread to weakness of the di—"

"_**Hughes**__**!"**_

* * *

_Ring ring. Ring. Ring ring._

The sound of the phone split through the large, well-furnished office. The setting sun tried to shine in through huge, floor-length windows, but found itself blocked by the heavy, dark-colored drapes pulled over them. Everything in the office was dark, actually, from the carpet to the ceiling fixtures. The scene was gloomy, dismal, uninviting.

_Ring ring. Ring. Ring ring._

There was movement from the only person currently in the room, a pretty young secretary with long, brown hair and pale features. The ringing of the phone had surprised her; a second before, she'd been staring off into space. She looked at the vibrating handle for a moment, a smirk sliding across her face.

_Ring ring. Rin-_

_"_Hello?...Ah, King Bradley, sir, I thought it might be you…" She paused for a few seconds, listening. "Oh, really? Interesting…I was under the impression that the file had been destroyed. Yes…yes, I understand. Of course, sir. I agree whole-heartedly, he's getting in far too deeply…." Another, crueler smirk appeared on her face; her ice-cold voice dripped with malice. "With all due respect, sir, I don't think it would be wise to have him killed just yet. He's too famous...and too important for _our_ plans. We've recently been made aware that he knows the truth about you, but even with this new information, he is still far from understanding everything. He poses no threat….yes sir. I understand. May I suggest giving him a friendly little warning…?" Another, longer pause ended with the answer she wanted; her sneer grew larger. "Don't worry, sir, I'll handle the details. I already have someone in mind. …Yes sir. Understood." She hung up, still smirking.

Opening a desk drawer, she pulled out a huge folder crammed with papers. She opened it up and began flipping through. Every so often, a name would catch her eye- Cain Fury, Jean Havoc, Maes Hughes…everyone who'd ever so much as bumped into Roy Mustang was in there.

Another few seconds passed before she finally paused, scanning the contents of a particular page. Then she smiled to herself and picked up the phone. Dialing a number quickly, she held the phone to her ear and waited. This time, when the person on the other end picked up, her voice was much less polite.

"Envy? It's Sloth. I have a little job for you. …No, it doesn't involve the Fullmetal runt. Oh really? Well, in that case, where's Greed?..." Her voice grew harsher. "Yes, I am _aware_ he refuses to join with you. That doesn't matter. Find him. Tell him Pride wants a nosy little colonel taught a lesson. …Oh, he'll come. Trust me…" The sneer was back. "He'll be all too eager to come." She looked down at the open file in front of her. "It won't be too hard a job. A simple assassination. But for someone like Greed, it should be plenty of fun--I hear the target puts up a good fight. Yes…yes…I _know_. Don't worry about it. The man's said to be a complete wreck inside…one more little 'incident' will push him over the edge. …It will. The person I've chosen is a very…_special_ person to the colonel. He'll have a hard time getting over the loss." She glanced at her watch. "I have to go. I want Greed here by tomorrow, understand?"

Without waiting for an answer, Juliet Douglas hung up. She was still smiling as she left.

The folder was still open to the page she had found so important. On the top of the page, Douglas had circled in red one certain name…

'_First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye._'

* * *

EDIT 4/28/07-- I have no time for anything these days, but considering it's been months since I last worked on this thing... 


	10. Chapter 9

AN- hmm, seems my first real cliffhanger went over well. everyone really does NOT want to see Riza die...i aint saying nothing XD. i made up the way to kill homunculi, in case you didnt notice, 'cause at the time they hadnt reached that part in the show. i made it as plausible as possible, tho.

REVIEW, PLEASE!  


* * *

'**The Ultimate Shield'**

It had been a very _long_ week, Roy couldn't help but think.

Another Friday was reaching its end, but there was none of last week's dating drama: there wasn't enough _time_! Every spare moment for Roy and the others had been spent on research—Hughes had been pulling long hours trying to find another copy of the file on homunculi; Fury, Breida, Havoc, and Falman were all running around trying to keep the investigation secret; Armstrong was looking through records on the higher-ups that Riza had managed to unearth, trying to see if there were any connections somewhere in the chain of command. And Roy? He spent hour after excruciatingly boring hour sifting through files Riza brought him. Since she was grabbing anything that had even the _slightest_ to do with homunculi, the Philosopher's Stone, or King Bradley, there were a _lot_ of files to be sifted through!

The last few dregs of a weary late afternoon sun, weakly shining for the first time in three days, were lost on Roy, who sat with his back to the window. He tossed yet another binder into the 'reject' pile (which by now was a very large pile).

_Nothing in that one…nothing in any of these! Dammit, this is such a waste of time!_

Roy was going stir-crazy. He was definitely _not_ the type of person to sit back and wait when he could be taking action. And, yeah, he _knew_ that it 'was wise' to hang back, play it safe for a while, keep your cool…but God damn it…playing it safe took too much time and got you no _closer_. Roy didn't want to sit here reading through dusty old reports that had nothing to do with anything, he wanted to be kicking Bradley's ass!

The goal that he'd been affixed upon for years and years was within reach…it was so tantalizingly close...and yet….

With the week drawing to a close, Roy felt like he had gotten exactly…no where.

He threw up his hands in defeat, groaning. _If I see one more goddamn file, I'm gonna kill someone…shit, I'd rather being filling out forms again!_

The door to his office banged open, and Riza walked in, struggling to carry a stack of files that must have weighed as much as she did. Roy cursed, wondering if jumping out a fourth story window would kill him, as Hawkeye dumped the load onto his already overcrowded desk.

"Holy fuck, Lieutenant, are any of these damn things actually relevant?" he demanded.

She nodded. "Yes sir, all of them are in some way or another…."

"Right, let me rephrase that…will any of these damn things actually get us anywhere?"

A hint of a smile creased her lips for a split second. "Probably not, sir."

"Then why are we wasting our time!?"

She carefully slid a folder out and brought it over to her desk, flipping through it. "Because we need to be as informed as possible before we make our next move."

"Hmph…" Roy grumbled under his breath exactly what _he_ thought about being informed. (Riza decided it would be best just to ignore him—it usually was when the colonel stopped making sense.)

The phone rang, and Roy grabbed it. "What?" he barked into the receiver. He listened for a minute, then said curtly, "Understood," and hung up. He stood up and stretched, looking more irritable then ever.

"That was Hughes. He hasn't found anything, and the brass's starting to get suspicious. He's gonna have to give up his end of the search, for now, anyway."

Riza nodded, slowly. "We need to be careful…King Bradley no doubt has an extremely well-established spy network in place."

"Dammit!" The colonel cursed again and kicked at the foot of his desk. "If only we knew exactly who we could trust…!"

He sat back down at his desk, still muttering to himself. Silence, all too familiar a guest by now, settled over the room. The two of them sat there, reading file after file, and finding absolutely nothing. Roy's brow furrowed at one point as he marked something down.

"Hey, Hawkeye, was this document on human transmutation mentioned in that big research report on the Ishbalan Rebellion?"

Riza checked. "No sir, it wasn't."

"Oh, never mind then…" He looked back down at the file without really seeing it. His head was starting to throb again. Whether or not the document had been mentioned didn't make a difference, really. He'd only asked because he'd had this nagging suspicion all week long….

Never mind the silence. He was, sadly enough, used to that by now. No, what was bothering him was the lack of, not disrespect, but…more like the lack of warning usually found in Riza's voice—all the little hidden meanings typically found sprinkled in her speech. They weren't there today…hadn't been there for a while, really.

Although his first lieutenant never openly disagreed with him, her tone of voice or her wording had always made it all too clear when she thought he was being an idiot. Roy _took_ more orders from her then he gave. Or at least, he _used_ to….

But that was gone now. Hawkeye didn't question him, whether openly or subtly; instead, she simply accepted his orders the way she was supposed to…the way a _proper subordinate_ was supposed to.

_Subordinate_….

Roy hated that word. He hated everything it stood for. He hated that it was what Riza considered herself…the _subordinate_ of Colonel Roy Mustang. He hated that everything between the two of them had changed…her manners, her behavior, even her tone of voice was different when she talked to him now!

Whenever Riza was talking with a higher-up she didn't like, Roy had noticed early on, her voice became much more distant, and her eyes would stare, not at the officer himself, but at some far-away point right behind his ear. Roy got the sense she wasn't really listening, even though she said 'yes sir' and 'no sir' and nodded in all the right places. It was like she was zoning herself out because whatever was being said was not important enough to waste attention on….

That was how she talked to Roy now.

Sometimes, when she was busy, he would watch her for a while. He'd always done that, provided he was certain she wouldn't catch him at it. Before this whole mess, she'd glance up every so often to make sure he was doing what he was supposed to, and Roy would jerk his head back down, heart thumping, hoping she hadn't noticed him staring even as his face flushed with the idea that maybe she _had_. Nowadays, though, that was one thing he didn't have to worry about…she never looked up. She kept to herself, head always down, always staring determinedly at whatever was in front of her, refusing to let her attention waver for even a second.

_Is this always how things are always gonna be between us now_? he wondered. _Damn, I hope not. I really hope not…. _

He was snapped out of his gloomy thoughts by the sound of a partially-muffled yawn. He glanced over to see Riza rubbing her eyes, and he checked the time. _Holy hell, it's late already._

"Hey, Hawkeye, you should go home and get some rest. No sense in pulling an all-nighter over this crap."

She started to protest, then changed her mind and stood up.

"Yes sir. I'll see you in the morning then." Riza quickly gathered up her things, feeling awkward--it was unusual, her leaving before the colonel.

Roy waited until she left, then went over to her desk. Neat as always, even with all the files lying around…

He inhaled, her scent still lingering, feeling more or less like a stalker. God, this was pathetic. But he couldn't help it…she'd been so close…not getting the girl was getting old. Fast.

But, this was how it was…he snorted, remembering where he'd been this time last Friday…sitting in some rancid-smelling bar with a slutty ditz for company. _Damn…what I wouldn't do for a time machine right about now!_

But he didn't have the luxury of going back and fixing everything. Wasn't that the lesson Ishbal had imprinted in his head? He didn't _have_ that option. Hell, what _did_ he have? A fancy title and an empty apartment…a desk covered in files and nothing to look forward to but a night of unending tedium and the hazy, distant promise of a fight that would most likly be to the death…

_Oh, screw it_…he though, tiredly. _Might as well get back to whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing._

He couldn't quite bring himself to move, though. He just sorta stood by Riza's desk, thinking, his thoughts muddled and warping in on themselves.

Yeah…it had been a very long week.

* * *

_It looks like rain. _

Riza noted that the sky was turning grey again, and hoped she'd make it home before it started pouring. It'd been raining a lot lately; several of the smaller towns outside the city were flooding pretty badly. Central, being on higher ground, wasn't in any immediate danger, but the entire city was damp and dreary; the streets were muddy and the passing cars sent water splashing high.

All in all, not exactly the nicest of weather.

A crack of thunder sounded just then, and she picked up the pace, not wanting to get caught in a thunderstorm without an umbrella. The streets were deserted—the late hour combined with the weather had ensured that most people would be staying indoors if they could. Another boom came from up above; Riza decided to take a short cut home in an attempt to beat the rain, and turned down an alleyway that branched off the main street.

She yawned again, more worn out then she realized. The past week had been so mind-numbingly dull…add the boredom to her issues with the colonel, and get one soldier who was extremely relieved the week was over. She wondered absently if the upcoming week would be any better…

_Wait! _

The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up, and she stopped. She looked behind her, one hand on the butt of the gun strapped in her side holster, adrenalin already kicking in. Just now, there'd been unfamiliar footsteps…

A low mist had settled over the city, plunging the path into semi-darkness and making it hard to see, but Riza wasn't a decorated sharpshooter for nothing. She examined every crevice and corner in the alleyway, her razor-sharp eyes scanning for whoever it was that was following her. She didn't _see_ anyone…but her soldier's intuition all but screamed in her ear.

There _was_ someone following her…a very _unfriendly_ someone.

She focused on a particularly dark corner, one where no light was able to penetrate the shadows. She was reasonably sure that was where her follower was, but she wasn't sure if she should fire or not. Experimentally, Riza turned and made as if to keep going—

Movement from behind her-!

Whatever doubt she'd been feeling vanished, and she whirled around, gun drawn and the safety switched off.

She didn't have even have time to pull the trigger, though; her opponent was suddenly right in front of her, moving with an amount of speed Riza hadn't thought possible. It was only because her instincts were so good that she managed to dodge the fist that came flying out at her, jumping away a second before it landed. Her assailant's hand smashed into the wall behind her instead, and her eyes widened as the bricks crumbled as easily as if they were made out of cardboard. She fired three shots point-blank in response, but the figure moved so quickly that none of the bullets so much as left a scratch.

"C'mon, I thought you were a good shot." Riza started at the husky male voice that issued from the darkness. "The only reason I came was 'cause I heard it'd be a challenge. I don't usually _like_ running errands for those bastards." He snickered softly, almost to himself. "But I don't want to have to worry about military dogs on my tail, either, and rumor has it your boss is getting feisty."

"Who are you?" Riza demanded, keeping her gun focused on his shadowy outline.

"Ehh?" The figure snickered again. "For one day and one day only, I guess you could call me a messenger boy. And my message is this: Colonel Mustang needs to stop sticking his nose where it doesn't belong."

_Bam!_

Riza fired again, gritting her teeth when she heard the muffled _thud_ that meant the bullet had hit the wall.

"Hey, c'mon, woman, don't get mad at _me_," he yawned. "It wasn't my idea."

"Then whose idea _was_ it? And why are you carrying it out?" Riza could feel her hands shaking slightly and she didn't like it. It was never a good sign, getting flustered by an opponent's words….

"Because…it sounded like fun."

"_Fun_!" Hawkeye repeated, incredulous.

"What can I say, I'm greedy. I want excitement, I want a _rush_. Plus I've never gone up against a sharpshooter before."

Riza frowned. "Whatever it is you're planning, it won't work."

"Fine by me."

"…?" Riza blinked, taken aback.

"Like I said, I'm only in this for the _fun_. I could care less about the others and their little plan. Mustang butts out or he doesn't, it's all the same to me; being tracked down by you guys'd be annoying, but not exactly _deadly_, heh. My only concern is how it'll affect yours truly, and frankly, even if he does keep nosing around it won't mean a damn thing to me in the long run, so my attitude is who gives a shit."

Riza fired again, although it was more of a warning shot and she wasn't surprised when it missed. "Come out so I can see you," she ordered.

"Bossy, aren't you?"

The lieutenant narrowed her eyes in frustration. "I said, come out."

"Well, when you put it like that…yes, ma'am."

He sauntered up, hands over his head. He was wearing a sleeveless jacket with fur lining the collar, over an extremely tight purple muscle shirt, and leather pants. His body was very lanky and muscular, giving him the appearance of a wolf, lean and brutal. His teeth almost looked like fangs, adding to the effect, and his hair was black and spiky. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but there was no mistaking his sneer. And, on the back of his left hand was an oriborus tattoo…the mark of a homunculus.

Riza felt her pulse quicken. This was _not_ good.

_It looks like the colonel's going to be able to find out whether or not that file's correct after all,_ she thought grimly.

The homunculus yawned again, and scratched his head. "So, you really a good shot? Or was that all a load of crap?"

For an answer, Riza fired again, and this time the bullet grazed his arm. He looked at the bloody line it left and grinned.

"Well, guess that answers that. Most people can't touch me," he bragged.

"Fascinating." Riza was only half listening by this point, the greater part of her mind being set on finding a way out of this. Homunculi couldn't be killed, but maybe if she could figure out a way to distract him somehow…

"Hey, 'r you even listening?" The homunculus's sneer grew, but his tone of voice went cold. "You know, Sloth told me you were smart, but if you're gonna ignore me, then she was wrong. And it'd be _such_ a disappointment if you weren't worth the time; I'd be listening to that witch for no good reason."

Riza eyed him. She'd already figured out that he was the type of opponent that didn't care about the consequences of anything…those types were always the most deadly, when it came down to it. But now, with the change in his voice, it was also extremely apparent that he was nursing a real bad temper underneath that sneer. She felt a cold bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face, and cursed silently.

Here she was, trapped in a relatively unused alleyway with an angry homunculus. Sure, she had her gun, but from the look of it- the gash on his arm had already healed- that wasn't going to be much of a help. Hawkeye never deluded herself. She knew that unless something closely resembling a miracle came along, she was in some serious trouble.

The homunculus took a step towards her, and she fired again. The bullet imbedded itself in his shoulder, but he didn't seem to care all that much. There was a small flicker of light around the wound, and in a second it had vanished altogether.

"How long you planning on keeping that up, anyway?" he asked, derisively. "In case you haven't figured it out, killing someone like me is almost impossible…anyway, you sure as hell aren't gonna do it with a puny _gun_."

_What…. _

There was no mistake…he'd said _almost_. It was _almost_ impossible to kill him. Then did that mean the file was correct after all?

_I have to inform the colonel…!_

Of course, if this guy killed her, that would be rather impossible…thinking fast, Riza decided to distract him long enough to make her escape, and then get back to Roy as quickly as she possibly could. That was the plan, anyway…but the homunculus didn't seem to want to follow it.

"Alright, this is getting old. I'm sorry 'bout this, really I am, but hey. A guy's gotta have some fun every now and then, right?"

He sneered. Riza raised her gun again, but faltered when she saw what was happening to his fists: they were turning…_blue_?

It almost looked like he was turning his arms from the shoulder down into stone. She tried shooting at the tattoo, but the bullet literally bounced off of his 'skin' without leaving so much as a crack.

And then, it dawned on her, who this creature was. She remembered reading in one of those musty old documents back at Headquarters, about a certain homunculus so violent that his own brethren, the other 'false-humans', had sealed him up in an old laboratory. Only, very recently it seemed, he'd managed to escape.

She remembered bits and pieces from what she'd read….this homunculus was said to be ruthless and bloodthirsty, with no regard whatsoever for anyone else. However, unlike the other homunculi, he didn't go around killing and manipulating others for any particular reason….he just killed when he was bored, or if he got something out of the death. Supposedly, while there was no love lost between him and his fellow demons, he had a loyal band of mercenaries who would fight to the death for him. He had the power to turn his body into what he always called 'The Ultimate Shield'—nothing could pierce it. And…-Riza strained to remember- and his name was Greed, for obvious reasons. That was all. There'd been nothing written, as far as she knew, about how to stop him. From what she'd read, if there _was_ a way, no one had ever lived long enough to share it with the rest of the world.

Greed, perhaps seeing the look on Riza's face as she realized what she was really up against, snickered softly.

"See, you're not really that bad…if I was a normal guy, I'd be bleedin' on the ground right now. What your problem is, is that you don't know how to fight against homunculi. And, hey, that's not your fault, you've probably never had to fight one before. Am I right?"

Riza didn't bother to answer; she was furiously trying to come up with a way to defeat him, or at least get out of there _alive_…

"And, see, I never did like fightin' people who're completely helpless. It ruins all the fun. Plus, from what I've heard, you've got real potential there." He grinned, brutally. "So how 'bout I help you out: you stand there, and I'll show you how a pro works!"

He leaped for her, fingers outstretched. She managed to dodge the initial assault, but then he swung around, his fists flying with deadly accuracy…

Riza, knowing that one full hit would be more then enough to crack her skull open, started firing at him, trying to slow him down.

It didn't work.

He kept punching at her—a person not fortunate enough to have the training in hand-to-hand she'd had would have been dead at the start—missing her head only by sheer inches…with every punch he came that much closer to finishing her off….

Hawkeye ducked one of his fists only to see the other come flying at her…twisting around, she tried to duck a second time, but Greed managed to graze the side of her face. It was slight contact, really; with anyone else, Riza wouldn't have batted an eye. But this wasn't anyone else, this was Greed, and as a result, it felt as if she'd been hit over the head with a brick.

_ Unnh… _

She stumbled backwards, the area where Greed had hit her already swelling up. Her head was beginning to throb unpleasantly, and her vision blurred slightly for a few minutes. Greed took advantage of that, and, grabbing her by the arm, slammed her into the wall behind her. She couldn't help but cry out slightly as the back of her head smashed into the bricks.

The lieutenant's vision went fuzzy again, and she struggled to keep her wits together, well aware that to lose focus now would be a death sentence.

She opened up with another barrage of bullets as he closed in on her, but he simply hardened whatever part of the body the bullets were coming at, and not one did anything besides fall to the ground, useless. Still, she tried, hoping that at least one bullet would manage to stun him, even for a few seconds…hoping that she'd at least have a chance to warn the colonel before Greed caught up with her again….

_Blam…blam…blam…click! _

Riza felt a jolt of panic- it only lasted a second, but it was there nonetheless. Her gun was out of bullets, and she had no time to put more in! Not that it would have helped, but without a working weapon in her hands, she felt so damn _helpless_…

Greed put his hands on the wall on either side of her, trapping her against it. In desperation, she reached for another ammo clip, but Greed simply laughed and grabbed the gun out of her hand. He squeezed, and with a _crack_, he crushed it like it was nothing. Riza stared as pieces of what up till a few seconds ago had been a working weapon fell to the ground.

"Didn't I already tell you?" he hissed, leaning in close. "You can't kill me that way."

Riza's mind was a blank. This wasn't looking good. And the worst part was, if she died here, she wouldn't be able to warn Roy…what would he think if she didn't show up for work tomorrow? Would he be worried? How long would it take him to notice?

Greed was watching her, looking curious. "You know…" he commented, "You really are different. Most people are begging for their lives right about now."

"There isn't a point in begging," she snarled at him, "if nothing will come out of it."

Greed laughed. "Yeah, but see, most people can't quite accept that." He grinned at her. "I like it better this way. Less screaming. People whining all the time really get on your nerves after a while."

Riza didn't answer. Slowly (_very_ slowly), she was reaching down, trying to slip a second gun out of her pocket…she prayed Greed wouldn't notice, that he would keep talking….

"But, seriously, this sucks for you, huh? I mean, it's not really even your fault. The only reason the others want me to kill you off is because you're closest to Mustang, or so they say. Although, if I were you, I'd haunt him for the rest of eternity, seeing as how he's the reason you're about to die."

Riza ignored him, or at least tried to; she knew he was trying to rattle her, trying to make her do something stupid and rash. Her hand closed around the cool metal handle of her gun…

"Heh, but I guess a loyal lapdog like you would never even _dream_ of doing that…besides, if you wanna flip it around, you're the guilty one anyway."

Riza gritted her teeth, ordered herself not to listen, but the homunculus's sneering voice was impossible to block out…

"I mean, you're his subordinate, he shouldn't _have_ to worry about you all the time. And since you're being 'disposed of' to make him miserable, well…it seems to me that if you weren't so close to him, he wouldn't have to suffer like he's gonna."

Riza froze. The blood drained from her face, much to Greed's delight.

"Oh, whoops, looks like I hit a nerve. Lapdogs don't like it when they're the reason their master's so unhappy, I guess?"

She felt uneven, disjointed, almost….

"Well, from what I've heard, the two of you aren't much more then a state alchemist and his pet anyway. I guess Sloth got it wrong, I don't see The Great Flame Alchemist worrying too much over you. He's too much like Pride…all he cares about are his own damn goals." Greed laughed again. He looked at Riza's pale face and smiled 'sympathetically'.

"Aw, but don't worry about it. I'm sure there are plenty of guys in whatever fucked-up afterlife there is that'll be intrested in you…" His eyes slowly left her face; his hands clamped onto her waist. "I know I would be. Then again, I'm the type of guy who wants _every_ hot chick he sees, so."

One hand began to trail lower…

Riza growled, and whipped out her second gun. She didn't even bother shooting at him—instead she brought the butt down over Greed's head so fast and so hard he lost his grip.

"Agh…! You little bitch!" He was up again in an instant, but she'd already jumped past him, and was now running back down the alleyway.

Hawkeye could see him chasing after her out of the corner of her eye, and gritted her teeth. Headquarters was a good five blocks away—she'd never reach it in time. Not to mention, if she led this monster there, other people would get hurt…the _colonel_ could get hurt!

She turned a corner, and an idea popped into her head. Directly in front of her was an old abandoned building, with the warped wooden door hanging open and creaking in the wind. Riza darted inside; at first she moved to slam the door shut, but on second thought left it open. Then she plunged deep into the shadows, keeping her gun aimed at the door just in case.

For a few minutes, the only sounds were the wind blowing in through a cracked window, and her muffled breathing. Then she heard footsteps, and Greed stepped up to the door and looked inside.

Riza held her breath, waiting and praying for him to keep going. For one horrible second, time seemed to freeze in place as he took a step inside…but apparently something changed his mind, because he looked behind him, scowled, and went back out. Riza counted to ten, then to fifty, waiting for him to come back. When he didn't, she let out a small sigh of relief.

She made her way to the door, moving cautiously incase Greed was lurking outside. When she passed a broken window, however, raised voices from outside made her stop in her tracks.

"Why the hell are _you_ here? I don't _like_ being spied on, you know."

"Kindly keep your voice down, Greed."

Riza's brows furrowed in surprise. That voice….

"Look, Sloth, you told me to take this girl out, and that's what I'm doing. I don't _need_ you _babysitting_ me, got that?

"You were taking far too long. The girl's a simple human, you shouldn't be having such…_difficulties._"

(Riza shook her head slowly, wondering…she had heard that voice before, she was sure of it…but where…?)

"Screw you."

"Indeed." From the woman's tone of voice, she didn't sound too frightened. "Where's the girl now, Greed?"

"Hell if I know."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

The woman, whoever she was, had a voice like ice from the beginning, but now…now her voice was not only cold, but dangerous as well…

"Well, I suggest you _find_ her."

"Y'know something? I'm not sure I feel like taking your orders anymore."

"I'm afraid it isn't your choice, Greed. It never was."

"Oh really? Well, go ahead, try and boss me around. See where it gets you."

The woman--_Sloth_, Riza thought--sighed slightly. "Very well. If you insist on being _difficult_."

Riza waited, but nothing else followed. When she looked outside, the alleyway was empty. After an uncertain pause, she decided she'd better get going before someone came back, and took off towards Headquarters again. Her head was still pounding, and blood was trickling down her forehead from a swollen gash, but she ignored that. Her mind was on something else.

_That woman…I know I've met her, but where…? Who could she possibly be? _

Up on a near-by rooftop, Juliet Douglas silently watched Riza make her way back towards Headquarters…up there, the only sound besides the wind was the steady _drip drip drip_ of blood oozing down her hands…

* * *

AN- i still need an answer to my previous question, btw. no clue when i'll be able to review again, as my parents have lost their minds over some stupid school issues. if need be i'll just sneak on, but still. 

A Semi-Funny Story incident--while typing part of this at like, midnight, i accidently made a serious typo that i didnt notice for like, 1/2 the night. luckly i caught it, 'cause otherwise Riza's line "we need to be as informed as possible before we make our next move" would still read "we need to be as informed as possible before we make out". i think my inner-royainess is trying to tell me something...

REVIEWS, PEOPLE! (a giant thanks to everyone who has, btw)  
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EDIT: 6/29/07- Still fixing the chapters, even if it takes me months to get around to it.


	11. Chapter 10

AN-** foreverlight-** yay, thanks for the help with the epauletts (did i spell that right?;;)! i was drawing a complete and total blank there

**flOofymikO-** hmh, a Greed fan, eh? personally i dont like any of 'em, but i CAN stomach him the most (as long as it aint sloth, pride, or envy, i'm ok...) i'll be xplaining exactly what happened to Greed later on; it was a kinda last-minute decision so i have to work it in somewhere. i can gurantee you wont like sloth for it, tho! XD

GREETINGS once again! a shorter (6 ms pages) chapter, but an emotional one. in case you can't tell by the title, there's plenty of angst involved. not much else to say, other then that...

* * *

**Guilt**

Night had settled over Central Headquarters. The building, in stark contrast with the daily hectic bustle, was empty and quiet, almost eerily so. There were very few lights on, and those that _were_ on gave illumination only to the night guards and the janitors.

And Roy Mustang. His office light was one of the only ones still glowing, its thin gaze reflected in the window and shinning down into the street outside. Inside, he was still flipping through files, though his mind was fuzzy and he could barely focus on the words. He yawned and put his head down for a few minutes, but then shoved himself back up and reached for the by-now-half-empty beer bottle sitting near him. He guzzled a few sips greedily, the sharp taste burning against his throat and jarring him back awake.

"Coffee works a lot better then booze, ya know."

Roy glanced over at his door. Ah, yes, it was Hughes, of course--what other crazy idiot would be here this late?

Hughes settled himself in his usual chair by Mustang's desk, complaining about how it wasn't fair that only Roy got to have a 'spinney chair'. Roy aimed and tossed the empty beer bottle at the garbage can. He missed.

Hughes eyed him, carefully. When Roy was in one of his moods, like the one he'd been in without any sign of respite for over a week now, saying the wrong thing could have some dangerous results.

"And you're still here _why_? You know none of these files will get you anywhere, go home and get some shut-eye already."

"Shame on you, Maes. A good soldier always works as hard as he can, right?"

"Save it, wise guy. Right now, the only thing you're good for is sleep. You look like you've been up for days."

"That's probably because I have." (Roy didn't go into details, and Hughes decided he really didn't want to know.) "Besides, _you're_ still here, aren't you? You're the one who's got the family, after all."

"Eh, I called Gracia before and told her I had to stay late and do some babysitting." Roy rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. "Seriously, though, why not get some rest? There isn't much point in going home by now, but at least take a nap or something. That couch over there's really comfortable!"

"Hughes, I really don't want to—"

"Oh, don't be silly, what's the big deal?"

_The 'big deal' is that I've been trying to stay awake all night for the past week! Whenever I close my eyes, I have nightmares, and they're always the same, but each one's still worse then the last…don't ask me how that's fricken possible! When I wake up in the morning, I'm just as tired….I'd rather be in hell then have those fucking dreams anymore! But, hey, can you blame me? You'd do the same damn thing if the girl you loved kept dying right in front of you every goddamn night!_

"It's nothing, I'd just…rather be handling this issue with the homunculi then…"

"Then what, _sleep_?!" Hughes shook his head. "You are losing your mind, my friend."

"Gee, thanks, Hughes, you're really one to talk." He squirmed a bit in his chair, stiff from sitting down for so long.

"Come on, Roy, you're gonna wind up working yourself to death. Take a break, ok? All this crud will still be here tomorrow for you."

_I know, but that doesn't matter. I can't stop. I have to find the answer hidden in all of this shit. I have to do this. I can't put it off..._

"Yeah, I know…"

Hughes picked up a file and started flipping through it. "Good gosh, Roy, this has absolutely nothing to do with anything."

_Dammit,_ _I __**know**__! There's nothing, no information, no shortcuts, no clues. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't go in blindly but I can't wait forever, either…so what the__** hell **__am I supposed to do?!_

"You never know when you're gonna find something. 'Follow through with every lead', that's what the military drilled into our heads, right?"

"Yeah," Hughes snorted, "along with a lot of other useless advice."

Roy glanced wearily at the clock, wondering if he could manage to make it through another sleepless few hours. He was sure as hell gonna try, of course…anything to try and cheat the devil out of another tortured night…

"So," he started, trying to keep himself awake, "we're really the only ones still here?"

"Nah, Havoc and Breida are still around somewhere. Same thing with Armstrong, but you know how he can be; good luck convincing him to go home when he's busy. Fury and Falman left a while ago, but considering the military dorms are right next door, that doesn't exactly mean much."

"What?" Roy gave the other man an annoyed glare. "So, if pretty much everyone's still here, why are you yelling at _me_ to go home!?"

"Because you're the only one who looks like he's about to pass out," Hughes informed him. Roy mumbled something in reply, unsuccessfully trying to hide a yawn. Maes, watching his friend straining to keep his eyes open, couldn't help but sigh. He really did feel sorry for the guy, even though he knew Roy'd strangle him if he ever admitted as much. And hey, who could blame him? What man _liked_ to be pitied? But, the truth was, Hughes couldn't help but feel like Mustang had gotten the short end of the stick. After all, he already had his demons from Ishbal to contend with….and now all this trouble with Riza. Of course, Hughes mused, he wouldn't be _having_ all this trouble with Riza if he wasn't such an idiot sometimes, but still…if there _was_ a god up there watching them, then he really did _not_ like Roy Mustang.

Either that, or he had a pretty sick sense of humor.

"Well, anyway," Roy was saying tiredly, "tomorrow, see if you can scrounge up any more info on that—"

"Colonel!!" Havoc burst in, his face pale under the glaring lights overhead. "Roy!!"

Roy looked up, startled. "H-Havoc? Havoc, what's—"

"It's…it's Hawkeye! She's been attacked!

* * *

It's amazing, what power simple _words_ can have. Separately, they have no urgency, no alarm. They could be used for anything, in any sort of context. They can be benign, tame, benevolent…or they can cause fierce and unrelenting anguish, slicing deep within. In most cases, they can cause more fear, more shock, more pain, then a fist to the stomach ever could. 

Such was the situation rapidly unfolding in Roy Mustang's office.

Roy had not been made a colonel for nothing. He was no stranger to terror or grief, or the doubt that comes with a job commanding others. His record, militarily speaking, was flawless—he'd never lost a battle, never failed to snap his fingers and burn the enemy. Even in Ishbal, even in that hellhole, where more often then not his opponent had been a child too young to know the true power of the gun he clutched in his hands…

Roy was a good dog. At least on the outside, he bit on command.

His battles with his personal demons were deadly, and, it seemed, never-ending, but he hid them well, as a good leader must. Only a select few knew of his struggles at all. To most, he was smooth, relaxed, and always able to keep that smirk on his face, no matter what. There was very little that could make him lose his cocky composer in front of others: threaten him with violence and he wouldn't even blink. But the power of three short words, meaningless in any other form, was enough to scare him on a level he 'd never realized existed. It was strange, the way it all worked out…

'_It's Riza…she's been attacked!'_

Over and over again…the sentence repeated itself over and over again in his mind. Roy found himself on his feet, but couldn't remember ever standing up. Beside him, he could see Hughes leap up as well, could hear him demanding Havoc for more information…but it was all very faint, very hard to focus on.

_Riza's….been attacked…_

He looked down at his hands--they were shaking. The edges of the room were blurring around him; he could almost feel the air wrapping itself around his throat, strangling him. He opened his mouth, chest heaving and lungs burning, but it wasn't any help. His throat was closing up…he couldn't breathe…the world around him was blanketed by a thick, confusing fog...

_Riza's been attacked…_

"She's downstairs, in the lobby…"

_Oh fuck…_

And then he was running, tearing out of the room and down the hall in a blind panic. Behind him, Hughes yelled for him to wait up…but his voice was muffled, distant, like it was coming from miles and miles away. And anyway, Roy couldn't have stopped had he wanted to; his body refused to slow down.

Turning a corner, he dashed frantically for the stairs, tripped, and nearly fell, but grabbed frantically for the banister and managed to keep himself upright. His thoughts twisted, bended in on themselves, imploded.

_Fuck!_

_I hope her right arm's ok,_ he thought stupidly,_ otherwise she won't be able to use a gun…_

Dumb things like that kept flowing through his mind, moronic little worries that had nothing to do with anything. After all, whether or not her arm was ok should have been the _least_ of his concerns--who knew if she even _had _an arm at this point!

His entire body was shaking now, the air clammy and dead against his skin. One minute he was freezing, the next, burning hot…

_Oh, my God…_

The scene was far too familiar to him; in some perverse way, he felt as if he had done this, as if he had raced down this empty hallway stretching out forever in front of him many times before. Why was it that this sensation of panicked fright did not feel at all unusual or strange…?

The realization as it hit him left him dazed and gasping. This scene _was_ familiar, because he _had_ done this many times before…every night, in his dreams, as a matter of fact. And the ending in those dreams, those nightmares, was always the same…

_No!_ he almost screamed. _No!_!_ I won't let that happen, not here, not for real…I won't! I __**won't**__ let that happen!_

But black and slimy dread was still climbing through his heart…deep within he knew that in every single one of those dreams, he had sworn the exact same thing…

Roy was on the first floor now, and there were a lot more people milling around then there should have been this time of night; apparently, a meeting had run over extremely late. The small part of Roy's brain that was still functioning normally--or at least _trying_ to function normally--warned him that making a big scene in the midst of all these higher-ups wouldn't be smart…but the larger part of his mind was currently on auto-pilot, and he barged through the crowds, pushing people out of his way with reckless abandon. People glared at him, and a large, mustached general turned to yell at the rude colonel who had stepped on his foot, but Roy didn't stop to listen. His head was beginning to pound again, Lord…this was worse then any hangover…

_What was I doing when she was being attacked? Complaining about paperwork_?

He shoved the lobby doors open, his heart racing so fast he felt light-headed. He looked frantically around the room, wild-eyed, but it only took him a minute to find what he was looking for.

In the corner over at the far end, the impossible-to-miss Alex Louis Armstrong, easily the tallest, largest, and loudest man in the whole military, was working on crowd control, making sure the leaving brass didn't linger in curiosity for too long. Next to him, Breida stood with an open first aid kit in his hands, and next to _him_ stood…

"R-Riza…" Roy's mouth dropped open, and the breath he'd been holding for what felt like a lifetime exploded out of him in a half-strangled gasp. He made his way over to her on rubbery legs. "Riz….Hawkeye…"

She looked over and saw him; her eyes widened as she took in his haggard, stunned appearance.

He looked her up and down, in disbelief. She looked…

Well, honestly, the first lieutenant looked perfectly fine.

Oh, sure, there was a nasty-looking gash by her hairline that she was holding an ice pack to, a few bumps and bruises, and one or two rips in her uniform, but, really, she looked ok. (Roy'd gotten worse injuries then that in bed.)

Hughes finally puffed up with Havoc, complaining. "Jeeze, Roy, what the heck was up with all the running?! Havoc _said_ it wasn't anything serious, but you went off acting like you were racing in a darn marathon!"

"Shut up, Hughes," he mumbled, looking very intently down at the floor. Well…this was embarrassing.

He'd been so busy freaking out, that he'd obviously missed the part where Havoc had said her injuries weren't major. Cheeks flaring, he looked back up at Riza, who was staring at him as if he was insane. Actually, _everyone_ was staring at him as if he was insane, and that included Armstrong, who was borderline mental himself, and Hughes, who was way-_over-_the-line mental. (Roy worked with some weird people.)

"Hawkeye," he said hastily, hoping everyone would just kinda _forget_ that whole incident, "What happened?"

As she paused, he felt worry creeping up in him again; she might not have been hurt too badly, but the fact that someone jumped her at all was not one Roy liked.

"Perhaps it would be best if we discussed this somewhere else, sir?" she finally asked. Roy once again felt like a big idiot: of _course_, he should have suggested that from the start. No doubt this had something to do with their mission, so talking about it out in the open, with high-ranking officials everywhere, wouldn't have been too smart.

"Yeah, sure," he muttered, "we can go back to my office. Armstrong, go wake up Fury and Falman, would you?"

As the big man saluted and turned to go, Riza lowered the ice pack for a second, and Roy caught a glimpse of the wound beneath it…an ugly, purplish-brown slash that was still oozing bright red. He gritted his teeth, stomach tightening with anger. Whoever the hell had attacked her…they'd just made a very big mistake.

* * *

Riza settled into her desk chair, with the rest of them crowding around her. Fury was still rubbing sleep from his eyes, but everyone else was wide awake and alert. Roy was the only one not looking at her; he was staring out the window again, his handsome features molded into a preoccupied frown. 

"I was on my way home," she began, "and I noticed I wasn't alone in the alleyway…"

Roy listened in growing horror as she described the night's events. He didn't want to believe some of the things she was saying…a homunculus that bullets just bounced right off of? Someone strong enough to crush a gun bare-handedly? And, from the sound of things, this one had only been a pawn being used by others. Did that mean King Bradley and whoever Sloth was were even more powerful?

"But why," Fury asked, "did Greed come after you?"

"Yeah really, you'd think he'd go after the colonel if anyone," Breida commented.

Silence…

Roy turned around to look at the first lieutenant, confused. He'd noticed that she had left that part out, and now it seemed like she didn't want to answer Fury's question…but _why_?

"Lieutenant…?" He stared hard at her, wondering what it was she was trying to hide. "He did give you a reason, didn't he?"

"Yes sir," Hawkeye answered, almost inaudibly. She hesitated again, obviously unwilling to keep going. "He said…he had been told to kill me because…the homunculi want to…to hurt you…"

"To hurt _me_?" Roy echoed, not understanding.

"Yes sir…" Her voice dropped down low again, and she refused to meet his incredulous eyes. "Because…Greed said that since you and I are…since I am your subordinate, since you and I are close in that regard…it would cause you pain if I was the one destroyed…"

A rushing of air, a swirling of color--Roy grabbed at his desk and tried not to cry out. The others in the room sat in shocked silence, except for Hughes, who had the good sense to look concernedly over at his best friend.

Roy felt dizzy again, and he didn't think his legs could support his weight much longer. In a daze, he stumbled to the door, his fingers grasping clumsily for the knob.

"Colonel? ...Sir, where are you going?"

"Hey, Chief, are you ok?"

"Roy, hold on a sec."

Roy turned around, forced himself to sound nonchalant as he brushed off his subordinates' questions.

"Just…the bathroom…just going to the bathroom…"

He turned and staggered out, closing the door behind him. Somehow, he made it to the bathroom…somehow, he found his way over to the mirror…somehow, his legs kept him upright. A naked bulb swung slowly back and forth overhead, casting eerie shadows over everything below.

Roy stared into the mirror, and took in his appearance. His spiky black hair was disheveled, his uniform was wrinkled and dirty, and his onyx eyes were bloodshot, haggard, and--to put it quite frankly--scared. Roy Mustang was a wreck.

_Because of me…she was attacked because of __**me**__…!_

He leaned against the wall and cried out against this added injustice. He was _trying_, damn it, he was _trying_ to move past her! He knew that to still harbor the feelings he had for Hawkeye was wrong, but what else could he _do_? Must he still be punished for something he was fighting against?

_Dammit,_ he half-sobbed, _why did they have to drag her into this? Why did they have to go after Riza? If they wanted to hurt me, then why didn't they just kill me?_

He couldn't understand…hadn't he suffered enough for his crimes already? Had he, with his nightmares and guilt-ridden existence, still not paid the price set down by the devil? And even if he hadn't, even if he would be forced to pay from here to the end of eternity for his sins, _why_ did Riza have to suffer with him? What had she ever done but follow his shadow, ever-loyal?

_It's all my fault…_

'_Since you and I are close…'_

_Don't say that._

'_If I was killed…'_

_Please. Please don't say that._

'_Since you and I are close…'_

_I can't be close with you! I can't! I don't want to hurt you!_

'_It would cause you pain if I was killed.'_

_I'm sorry!_

'_She loves you, Roy. You know that as well as I do.'_

_I don't want to hurt you…Riza, it's too dangerous, I can't love you. I can't love you…_

'_Since you and I are close…'_

_**Don't say that!**_

Roy suddenly felt extremely nauseous. He lunged for a stall, and only barely reached it in time. Dropping to his knees, he bent over the toilet bowl and puked his guts out. He vomited until his body screeched in pain, until bright lights flashed in front of his eyes and he felt woozy. Then he collapsed against the toilet, gasping.

"Roy? Hey, Roy, you in here?"

Roy sat quietly, praying Hughes wouldn't walk in and find him. After a second, the bathroom door banged shut, and Roy slowly got back to his feet and left the stall. He went back over to the mirror and began to mechanically adjust his uniform and straighten his hair. He splashed water on his face and checked to make sure he didn't look as guilty as he felt. He checked to make sure that he looked a-ok…because a good soldier didn't show emotion, didn't allow personal feelings to come between him and his work.

And Roy Mustang _needed_ to be a good soldier—it was all he had left…

* * *

EDIT 10/14/07-- After many long months of pretending this fic didn't exist, chapter ten has been fiddled with. Also, if this thing hits 200 reviews I'll faint. 


	12. Chapter 11

AN--HI. another chapter for ya. this wasn't originally in the storyline, but i was bitten really badly by the idea bug, and here's the result. basically, it answers this one question of mine- why did riza pledge to support and protect roy in the first place?

as i've mentioned, i'm not much of an angst writer usually. i dont mind READING it, but sappy has never been my thing. i'm finding, however, that there's a line, however thin, between good angst and sappyness...so if i ever cross that line, lemme know!

* * *

**The Unbroken Promise**

Riza sat, alone now, in the colonel's office. Everyone else had gone off who knew where looking for Roy.

She was the only one who hadn't moved.

The expression on Roy's face refused to leave her mind. Even when she closed her eyes, she could still see him, shocked and upset. She wasn't sure who it was that he was upset with, though…himself for being the cause of the attack, or her, for causing even more chaos. Either way, she felt horrible. _Horrible_, because he shouldn't_have_ to protect her…Greed had been right about that, at least. Wasn't she the one who once swore to protect _him_?

_'If you weren't so close to him, he wouldn't have to suffer.'_

He wouldn't have to suffer…she knew, or at least liked to think she knew, that Roy would never begrudge her protection or blame her for any of this, but still…_she_ was the instrument being used to hurt the colonel…_she_ was the one hurting him, even if she didn't mean to…

'_The two of you aren't much more then a state alchemist and his pet anyway.'_

His pet? Was that really how it looked from the outside? Because it wasn't like that, Riza swore; she wasn't his lapdog. No, she was his subordinate and his friend—wasn't she? She always looked out for him, tried to keep the oftentimes absent-minded colonel safe…she put his protection above hers, always and forever. But…did that mean she was a good friend…or a good guard dog?

'_You're the guilty one…'_

No…it wasn't like that…it couldn't be like that…but what if it was? Could she go back to the way things used to be, during the early stages of Ishbal, when she considered Roy to be a nothing more than a typical, snooty officer with a typical, snooty god complex? Back to the days when she neither loved nor hated him…when she didn't care about him one way or the other…

But…had she ever _really_ seen the colonel that way to begin with? She could only recall respecting him; the only life she knew was spent right by his side…

_Shifting her duffel bag to her other shoulder, Riza Hawkeye looks around at the strange, unfamiliar landscape. It is nothing but desert, nothing but unending waves of sand broken only by a small group of buildings a few miles away, and, closer to where she stands, row after row of grit-smeared tents. Upon closer inspection, she comes to the conclusion that the tents might have been green, once. She blinks, her eyes tearing up from the low wind that has not stopped once since she got here. _

_Everywhere she looks, there is sand._

_She wonders which tent she is supposed to find to check in. The soldier who dropped her off left no instructions, and none of the small shelters have any distinguishing features that would hint at being a center of command. Sighing, she sets her bag down and resigns herself to wait. She is in no big hurry anyway, seeing as how the only thing she has to look forward to is war. _

_Eyeing the alien world around her, Riza decides that it is indeed an ugly place, and wonders why the Ishbalans would be so attached to such a dismal land. Personally, she has no quarrels with them; in truth, she actually finds herself sympathizing more and more with those strange people. In any case, she does not think her fellow soldiers belong here…but it's not a decision for a sergeant such as herself to make. The higher-ups who started this war are determined to finish it._

_A small piece of paper attached to her bag catches her eye. It has been there since she departed from Central, but she never really looked at it until now. _

_'Sergeant Major Riza Hawkeye, sharpshooter, advanced.'_

_That's all it says—only six words to sum up a person. Five for those not as skilled as she was. 'Sergeant Major Riza Hawkeye, sharpshooter, advanced.'_

_'Advanced'...she mulls over the word. She is considered something of a prodigy back home, she knows; she has been hitting bulls-eyes with her eyes closed since she was a little girl. The many military figures she has worked under all brag over her and her amazing skills with a rifle. They say that she is unshakeable, disciplined, a perfect subordinate through and through. _

_The compliments mean nothing to her. She was never close enough to any of those officers to care. _

_When the orders came, directly from the top, that she was to be transferred to Ishbal, she felt no sadness upon leaving her former post. The only thing she remembers wondering is why she was so important to the war effort…her commanding officer at the time assured her it was because her skills could best be put to use there._

_Riza sits idly--something she hates having to do--and muses on what this war will be like. She knows very little about her post here. Sent to Central for special training, she was then hurried off to Ishbal to serve under an up-and-coming young major they say could even make colonel if he plays his cards right. That is all she has been told about her assignment under this man, this Roy Mustang._

_(Except for that __**other**__ tidbit Hawkeye has picked up: the ladies love him. There was even a rumor back home that he was first sent to the front by a general annoyed with the 'friendliness' between said playboy major and the general's wife._

_Of course, there is also a rumor that says the major __**started**__ that story, to get himself noticed and add to his legend. Riza isn't quite sure __**what**__ to believe.) _

_Another hot blast of air, and her duffel bag is covered with fine pale grains. She brushes them away, irritated, but in a minute more come to take their place. Of the few soldiers she has seen here so far, all of them are draped with the same pale tinge. Hawkeye knows she must really stand out in such clean fatigues._

_All in all, she thinks she prefers the grime of the city to the grime of the desert._

_Her eyes are still watering, and the sun beats down mercilessly on her head. She begins to feel impatient, sitting out here sweating to death._

_'Heh…the military moves pretty slowly around here. You get used to it.'_

_The voice from behind makes her jump. Riza whirls around to see a man with the four stripes of a major watching her. His black hair is wind-blown and his uniform covered with layers of dirt. She can't see his eyes, but his voice sounds cynical and tired. _

_She jumps to her feet and salutes. 'Major, sir.'_

_The man gives her a shadow of a grin. 'You're new here, huh. I haven't been treated so politely since I got my promotion.' The words are said with a laugh, and yet are noticeably humorless. _

_She hesitates, unsure. 'Sir, I was assigned to…'_

_'Eh?' He looks at her assignment papers and shrugs a bit. 'Head over there, first tent on your right once you get past the second row.' He notices her annoyed blinking and half-smiles again. 'Don't worry...you'll get used to the sand soon, too.' He steps closer, and his eyes come into view for the first time. _

_The amount of self-hatred in them shocks her. _

_There is something in his manner to suggest a carefree attitude, as if the guilt is a recent addition; nevertheless, she finds it hard to meet his stark, angry stare for more then a few seconds. Hawkeye can't remember a time when she wasn't able to hold someone's gaze, but she is soon looking away all the same. The death in his eyes is far too recent._

_She glances at the papers again, for want of somewhere else to look. 'Sir, it says here I'm supposed to join the ranks of a Major Roy Mustang…?"_

_Mild surprise enters his eyes. 'Yeah?' He turns to go. 'Then I guess you're in my section. If I were you, I'd transfer out.'_

_He walks off, leaving Riza slightly puzzled as to why life under Major Mustang, whoever __he is__, is so unbearable. Riza watches him go, wondering about this strange figure in the dust, about the haunted look in his eyes, about what kind of life she is going to have here, in Ishbal._

_(She finds out later--__**that**__ man was Roy Mustang, and a few hours after he spoke with her, he tried to commit suicide for shooting in cold blood two doctors from Resembool.)_

* * *

_'Hurry! We need more ammo over here! This building checks out, search that one! Hey, I found one! An Ishbalan, over there! Medic!'_

_Riza is in the midst of her first battle, and to her it seems as if it is the most violent clash in the history of mankind—no fight in any of man's many wars could have surpassed this one's brutality!_

_(Of course, it takes her only a few days, a few battles, to realize that there was absolutely nothing special about her first—it was no worse then any of the others. Perhaps the idea that humans could cause such carnage not once, but hundreds of times over again, is what shocks her the most.)_

_Bodies from both sides are falling in bleeding heaps all over the place. A shot and a shriek, and the man next to her collapses, his left eye a red, gaping hole. A few feet away, another man begins screaming, blood pouring through his fingers as he clutches at his stomach. When he finally drops, his hand falls away, and Riza can see his entrails glistening in the sun. _

_The entire world is red and dripping. Dark red, violent red, vicious red. Red, the color of death. _

_(The major was right…you __**do**__ get used to the sand after a while. A few days is all it takes to get used to sand crunching between your teeth when you eat—if you can eat—spilling onto your cot when you sleep—if you can sleep—itching your scalp when you comb your hair--if you even bother any more. But no matter how long you are here, Riza believes, it is impossible to get used to the blood.)_

_A short burst of flames, and Major Mustang steps over a torched body. It is only her first battle, and already she has learned to keep an eye on him as he fights. There is something about this man--his desperate eyes, maybe, or the fact that he alone out of all the officers she has served under shows human emotion--that warns her to watch him carefully. It is not her place, perhaps, but he doesn't seem to care too much about proper protocol. _

_Besides, there is something about Roy Mustang that she likes. She doesn't know this man, really, but, then again, she doubts she could ever understand him completely. Either way, she wants to help him…it bothers her, because she can't figure out __**why**_

_Another scream, and the major curses as a mother and her child get in the way of his flames, which were meant for the building only._

_'Dammit, Kimbly!' he roars to the man next to him. 'These buildings were supposed to be empty!'_

_Kimbly, a skinny, sallow-faced alchemist with long, greasy black hair tied back in a pony-tail, shrugs. He looks at the bodies disinterestedly, not seeing human lives so much as a burning heap of useless flesh._

_'Guess I missed a few,' he grins. The major looks furious. 'Jeeze, Mustang, chill out. They're just Ishbalans.'_

_Riza watches this, her gun cocked and ready. Her finger itches to pull the trigger and splatter Kimbly's skull open, but she controls herself. The humanity in the major's eyes is still there, still burning, and she remembers an old saying about how men who remain men in war do not last long…_

* * *

_Riza doesn't actually speak to her commander again until close to two weeks later. She is heading from the front lines to the medical tent a little ways back; a small cut on her face needs to be treated before infection sets in. It is not a very serious wound, just a line on her cheek that will probably require one or two stitches. Nothing important._

_As she is entering the tent, Major Mustang is leaving it. She instantly stops and greets him with an, 'Hello, Major.' Her hand longs to spring up into a salute out of force of habit, but he has already told her not to bother. Such stupid measures of protocol belong in an office building, he often says, not a battlefield._

_'Sergeant…Hawkeye, right?' The Major rubs his eyes, his right hand wrapped loosely in bandages. 'The famous sharpshooter.'_

_She nods. 'Yes sir.'_

_Mustang shakes his head, wearily. 'Sorry I haven't really had a chance to talk with you yet.'_

_She shakes her head, mildly surprised; apologizing is not something an officer usually does. 'It's been a busy few days, sir.'_

_He snorts, 'That's putting it lightly. Well, see you.'_

_He turns, starts to leave, but then stops, looks back at her. There's a strange light in his eyes that she does not remember having seen in them before. _

_'Sergeant,' he says slowly, 'you're gonna think I'm nuts, but I gotta ask you something.'_

_She raises an eyebrow. 'Sir, if you're trying to arrange a date for when we return home, I'm afraid I'll have to give you the same answer I gave the other three—'_

_He laughs easily, and she is relived to see that he takes his reputation lightly. Personally, she is amazed at herself for speaking that way to her commanding officer. Usually, she wouldn't dare, and yet…with __**this**__ officer, it is surprisingly easy._

_'God, no,' he grins, 'although I gotta admit I'm tempted.' His smile fades away, and she is taken aback by the intensity that fills his eyes. His gaze is commanding, but gentle at the same time, and she finds herself staring back into his dark orbs, unable or perhaps simply unwilling to look away. _

_(Deep within her, something awakens.)_

_'No,' he continues, 'what I was gonna ask was...how do you reason away all…all this?'_

_Riza blinks. 'I-I'm sorry, sir, I don't…'_

_The major's gaze doesn't lessen. 'You know…all this slaughter…you're not like a lot of the other soldiers around here, I can tell you don't like this any more then I do…but you're still so…__**calm**__ about it all. How do you do that?'_

_She eyes him suspiciously, unsure if he is serious or just poking fun. After all, Roy Mustang is supposed to be an extremely flippant person, though she has seen little of that since she arrived. (It really is true, she sometimes muses, when they say that all men walk away from combat a different person then when they arrived). _

_Still, she finds it hard to believe a person could wear that expression and not mean what he said…_

_'Well…' Hawkeye begins at last, slowly. 'I suppose it's because I have no other options.'_

_'You could desert,' Mustang points out. 'It's not impossible, and you wouldn't have any more blood on your hands. It's the smart thing to do, if you think about it.'_

_Riza gets the sense he is no longer talking about her._

_'Yes, sir, but…' She pauses, not sure how she could make him understand. 'It's just…' Finally, she decides on a way to put it that makes sense, at least to her ears. _

'_It's just that there's a smart thing to do and a right thing to do…and they're not always the same thing.'_

_The Major closes his eyes briefly; when he opens them again, he is smiling faintly. ''Nice way to explain it, Sergeant.' He looks for the first time at the cut on her face and frowns._

_'Be careful out there, Sergeant Hawkeye…I don't want you getting hurt, understand?' A small smile plays at his lips for a second time. 'In fact, I order you not to get hurt here again.' He snickers good-naturedly, waves once, and is gone._

_She is startled at the time, but in looking back, she doesn't find the conversation to be so strange. Nor is it surprising to her, in retrospect, when Mustang seeks her out in the mess hall the next day. From then on, he spends much of his free time by her side._

* * *

_ Another day, another pointless, bloody game of chess in which the pieces follow no rules and there are no winners. Riza is on the rooftop of a partially burned building, lying on her stomach, peering into the scope of her rifle. A pull of the trigger, and another man falls, and another, and another…_

_She is the veteran of many battles now—so many that they all blend into themselves. Looking back, she is never quite sure which incident went with which attack. _

_She has learned much of this chaos men call war; she has also learned that she was wrong when she thought it was impossible to get used to blood. Nowadays, she shoots and kills without even noticing the spurts of red, fountains of gore both repulsive and amazing._

_She spends most of her time these days working as a sniper. Well-hidden, her bullets seem to come out of nowhere, and they almost always hit their target. In the beginning, she aimed for arms and legs, not hearts or heads. By now, however, she is starting to wonder how much good that actually does. By now, Riza understands that instant death would be better for these poor souls then being forever crippled or maimed. _

_She understands a lot more now, but sometimes it feels as if she knows nothing at all._

_For instance, she often thinks about her purpose here. It seems as though every other soldier has some grand pretext to reason all the violence away, but Hawkeye cannot seem to find one for herself, no matter how hard she looks. She does not believe in the 'great cause' of her country, but without that she has nothing, no excuse, no way to push the blame off of her and onto someone else. And there is so much blame to avoid, she knows…she has done so many things…_

_(There is a rumor going around that she is going to be promoted soon. It was the major who told her, actually…it was supposed to be a great honor, being promoted after only a few months of service. Coming from him, however, from this grim, ragged man…coming from him, she felt only shame.)_

* * *

_ Riza would do anything to protect Roy Mustang. She would die for him without thinking twice. _

_She doesn't remember when exactly she first realized this, but she knows for sure after today: an ordinary two-man patrol turned quickly into a muddled mess, as so often happens in combat. Her quick eyes, used to seeking out other snipers who blend in perfectly with their surroundings, see the attacker before the major does. Her gun roars, and the man falls limply to the ground. A sharp, bloodstained dagger rolls out of his hand. _

_The major simply stares. He looks shocked. _

_'…Sir?' she tries, tentatively. 'Are you ok?'_

_'He would have killed me,' Major Mustang says in wonder._

_'Yes sir. If he'd gotten close enough, he certainly would have tried.'_

_Roy looks away from the corpse lying at his feet. 'Too bad you stopped him,' he sighs. His lips twist upwards as if to suggest he is joking, but Riza is not fooled._

_(She wants to scream. There is too much happening here, and it's happening way too fast.)_

'_You're wrong, sir. With all due respect, it is important that you survive.'_

_'Oh yeah?' A cold smirk coils against his face. 'Why?'_

_'Because, sir…' She hesitates, wondering if what she is about to say does not cross some hidden line in their strange friendship…a friendship that sprouted up before either of them really knew it was there. 'Because, out of all the people here, you…are the most human.'_

_'Me?' he asks, incredulous. 'Me?' He gestures at the body lying close by. 'After…that? You still think that? After all the things I've done, all the people I've killed?'_

_'Yes sir.'_

_He shakes his head, amazed. 'Me…' He laughs, and Riza relaxes. It's a bitter laugh, to be sure…but it's a laugh. 'Me. Well, that's the funniest thing I've heard all day.'_

_'It's the truth,' she insists. 'You are the only officer who still mourns for these people. You are the only officer who hates what he is doing here. You…'_

_Mustang rubs his eyes, which are red from the ever-blowing sand. 'That's real pretty to hear, Hawkeye. When I die out here, I want you to give the eulogy speech, ok?'_

_'No sir,' she says, quietly, and he turns to her in surprise. Her training begins to yell at her, warning that she is forgetting her place, that she cannot question her commanding officer. But she ignores this, because she is not in a normal place, and this is not a normal situation…and because she knows the words need to be said. If the major punishes her for them, then so be it._

'_No, sir. I cannot agree to that.'_

_Major Mustang clenches his fists. _

'_Dammit, Hawkeye…' he whispers. 'Why can't you give up on me? Why don't you just leave me alone?'_

'_Because you are my commanding officer, and I—'_

'_Fuck that!' he yells. 'Some commanding officer! Why the hell do you keep showing me all this goddamn respect? I don't deserve it! Why the hell can't you just—just give up on me already_!_? I can't be whatever it is you think I am!' _

_His outburst drains away; he stands with his back to her, ashamed. 'I can't do this,' he mumbles._

_'No, sir,' she says firmly. 'You can. I have faith in you. I will never give up on you, sir, no matter what you say. You don't need to worry, Major. I'll always protect you. I promise.' _

_The words spill out of her before she realizes what she is saying, but in looking back, she does not regret saying them. Why should she? They are, after all, true._

_'You…promise?' He finally smiles, weakly. 'You're unbelievable, Second Lieutenant, you know that? Unbelievable.'_

_And then, as they turn to head back, she hears him whisper, very faintly. He doesn't think she's heard him, and she doesn't let on that she has. But the words he spoke echo in her head for months afterwards…and even longer, even after the war…_

_'…Thank you.'_

_After that, Riza has no more doubt; she no longer feels the need to question her purpose out here. Because she __**has**__ a purpose now, one that is very real, very solid. _

_She will protect her commander. She will not let anything get in the way of that. She will not let anyone hurt him._

_True to her word, she does not get injured again in Ishbal. What small scratches she does get, she hides, because she does not want the major to worry. And she still isn't sure why she is so willing to keep him safe, but she figures that she'll ask the why later. Right now, she only asks the how. It is her mission, and it is her promise, and it is something she would die for. _

_Resigned, she prepares herself for another day._

* * *

EDIT 1/?/08--Not sure what the date is...I'm currently on winter break and it has been one and a half months of glorious nothing. This is about the only productive thing I've bothered to look at so far...heh. Well, anyway, hopefully this chapter is a bit better then it was. _  
_


	13. Chapter 12

AN- Sorry about the delay this time around, had a small issue with writer's block, and then wound up getting sick on top of it. (In my opinion, the first section of this could have come out a LOT better, but oh well. There's no way I'm rewriting the whole darn thing now.) Just to warn ya, this chapter's my second longest ever. I was considering splitting it up again, but I liked it as one big chapter.

* * *

_**Nightmares**_

"Hey, open up!"

Startled, Riza snapped out of her revere and turned to the door, but before she could move there was a series of soft thuds and Hughes walked in, carefully carrying two cups of steaming hot coffee. (The door had scuffmarks at the bottom from where he'd been kicking with his foot.) He grinned when he saw Riza.

"Figured you'd still be in here. Roy's vanished for the time being, so I decided to go see how you were holding up. It's been a pretty crazy night, huh?"

Riza nodded her thanks as he handed her one of the cups and plunked himself down in Roy's chair. Hughes spun around a few times, just for the sake of him being able to say that he'd finally had a chance to spin in Roy's chair, and then propped his feet up on the desk and took a sip of his own cup. He eyed Riza, who was stirring her coffee halfheartedly. Her expression was hidden, as per usual, but Hughes thought her eyes looked awfully sad.

"Heh, you know, I had to practically kill myself to get this coffee. The cafeteria's closed by now, of course, but I thought a nice hot cup of caffeine was just what the doctor ordered after a night like tonight. So, first I picked the kitchen door lock, and _then_ I had to go dig up the coffee pot. And what did I find while I was looking for it but a…" His voice trailed off; Riza hadn't lifted her eyes from her cup.

"…Ah hah, alright, you caught me. I just stole this from that big meeting that let out a while ago. It's really good, too--better then the stuff they force on us lowly servants, eh? Man, those bigwigs have all the luck. _This_ coffee's_ imported_, even! Hope you like yours black, they were all out of sugar."

Riza nodded again. She took a small sip, but it was obvious that she wasn't exactly in the mood for small talk. Hughes sighed.

"Hey, Hawkeye…" he began after a moment, his voice a bit worried, "You sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine, sir," she said quietly. "As I've said, I was able to escape without any severe—"

"I'm not talking about what happened with Greed."

Riza's head jerked up, and she finally made eye contact with Hughes, staring at him. "Then I'm afraid I don't know what you mean…"

"Yeah, you do." Hughes's voice was uncharacteristically firm. "You know exactly what I mean. Things between you and Roy…are you sure you're ok with _that_?"

"I don't see," she said coolly, "exactly what you're referring to. The colonel was not directly involved in Greed's attack…obviously, I'm concerned that he has been made a target, but—"

"Riza. You know what I'm asking has nothing to do with _that_, either."

"Then it's hardly important enough to discuss here." The words themselves were calm enough, but they were covered in ice.

Hughes looked into his coffee cup and studied its sloshing contents. His lips curved upwards in a tired smile. "You're telling me your feelings aren't important?"

Riza clenched her fists. She could hear her heart beating, could feel it thumping inside her chest. "In this situation, no, they're not," she informed him coldly.

Hughes chuckled. "Man, I can't decide who's more stubborn, you or Roy. You both have your moments, that's for damn sure." He pinned Riza with a stern frown. "But let me tell you something, Hawkeye. I don't care what the situation is, feelings are always important. Gracia says that all the time, and it's true." He nodded adamantly, in that corny way only Maes Hughes could get away with.

Riza groaned silently. How could he know…?

But of _course_ he did! Hughes had a knack for knowing everything he wasn't supposed to; he seemed to think his job as an Intelligence officer was to eavesdrop on _everyone_. It made perfect sense, really, that he magically knew how Riza felt about the colonel…

Riza wasn't sure what to make of it. She knew he wouldn't report her--he didn't give a damn about the no-fraternization rule--and it would be nice to have someone besides Black Hayate to talk to, but…he was Roy's best friend, after all. How smart would it be to bare her soul to him when he could just waltz back and tell the colonel everything she'd said—even if her logical side said loyal Hughes would never betray her like that, how smart could it be?

(How smart would it be to bare her soul at all? Generally Hawkeye considered it foolhardy and unnecessary—why give potential enemies more targets, or closer friends more grief, when a person could shoulder his or her own damn weight and keep their issues to his or herself?

Only…she knew how Roy suffered, trying to keep his true thoughts hidden. She knew how important Hughes's job as both best friend and confident was to her colonel…and she knew that Roy often needed _her_ to help him with his burdens too, even if he didn't admit it, and certainly she never begrudged him any of it…

But she wasn't the colonel. She had no right to compare herself to someone who struggled internally as much as he did.)

"Hawkeye…? You ok?"

Her fingers tightened on the coffee cup. "Fine…I'm fine, sir. Like I said."

Hughes sighed again. "No, you're not."

"I _am_…and anyway," she suddenly blazed, "it doesn't matter if I am or if I'm not. I won't allow my personal feelings to interfere at work…I won't allow them to bother the colonel."

"Bother the colonel?" Hughes took a quick sip, eyebrows raised incredulously. "Listen, I think you've got it backwards. That man is losing his marbles over you."

Fresh guilt settled over Riza. "Yes, sir…I'm aware," she said softly. "The colonel has to worry now because of the trouble I've caused. It was never my intent to cause him any more stress then he already had…"

"_What-?!"_

Hughes choked on his coffee, and wound up coughing for a good five minutes before he could speak. He also wound up spilling about half the cup's worth of hot brown ooze all over himself in the process. "Argh…I mean…_that's_ what you think Roy's upset about_?_!"

Riza flushed ever so slightly, more rattled then she wanted to admit. "Well, of course, Lieutenant Colonel. He's had a lot to deal with, and then on top of everything, I-"

"Jeeze!" Hughes cried in exasperation, "Both of you are completely and totally in denial!"

"Excuse me?"

"Riza, please don't tell me you've sitting here feeling guilty for being jumped! Like you could control what the homunculus decided to do! Besides, Roy is not angry at you for _that_!"

"I see." Riza obviously didn't believe a word of what Hughes was saying. "Then perhaps you could inform me as to what he _is_ angry at me for. I don't believe I've done anything else to warrant his disgust."

Hughes, failing to find a napkin or tissue to wipe himself off with, settled for a wad of documents waiting for Roy's signature. (They'd been waiting for a few months now, so he figured it was safe to use them.) He shook his head at her sardonic words, his voice sounding both frustrated and sympathetic.

"You're right: you haven't done anything. And he's not mad at you, either." He felt rather then saw Riza's disbelieving frown, but kept his attention on cleaning his shirt. "He's too busy giving _himself_ shit to be mad at you."

"…But, that isn't…" Riza shook her head, slowly. "That can't be correct, sir. With all due respect, Colonel Mustang would never—"

"Never what?" Hughes grinned weakly. "Roy's found a way to blame himself for every little thing that goes wrong around here…well, everything that involves you, at least. I mean, he's always been the kinda guy who hates to see people he cares about in trouble. He feels guilty, like he should have done something more to protect them. Not that I can exactly blame him—last time Elysia got a splinter and cried I wanted to cry too!

"Now, I know as well as you do that you're hardly someone who _needs_ protection in the first place. But Roy's…well, he's _Roy_! He just isn't the kinda person who can sit back and not worry about people close to him. He's always got to have everything in control, everything running nice and smoothly. It doesn't matter if it's conquering-the-country-and-looking-good-doing-it or the girl he loves, he's gotta be able to reassure himself a hundred times a day that nothing's going wrong, that he planned for everything."

Riza tried to say something, but no words came out.

"It's a sickness, really," Hughes continued, and he heaved a dramatic sigh. "I keep telling him he needs to get it checked out, but for some odd reason, whenever I try to give him some friendly, well-thought-out, personal advice, he throws things at me. And they're usually sharp things, too."

(Riza remembered quite a bit of Maes Hughes's 'well-thought-out advice,' including an especially notorious incident in which he spent the entire day trying to convince people that starting a religion based around his daughter would be good for their souls. Still, under the circumstances, she decided to let that one go.)

"Well, anyway, the point is that Roy has to be in control of the situation around him. Personally, I think it comes from Ishbal. Can't really control who lives and dies in a warzone, and everything about warzones is what Mustang's trying to _stop_, soo."

"Colonel Mustang has always felt extremely responsible for his actions in Ishbal," Riza managed. Her head felt all swimmy; it was hard to focus clearly.

"Yuh-huh," Hughes nodded. "He couldn't control what was going on around him, or even his own behavior, and look at the end result. Worst case of survivor's guilt I've ever seen."

Riza put her cup down. "I'm afraid I don't see how any of this involves the colonel's present disappointment in me."

"He's not disappointed in you! I keep trying to tell ya…"

Riza couldn't control herself any longer. What did Hughes think he was _playing_ at? Did he want her to start hoping again, like an idiot, blindly deceiving herself?

"If he's not disappointed, then explain to me, _sir_-" Her voice shook with anger, and a sort of desolate dullness she wasn't used to and didn't like. "If he's not disappointed, then tell me why he doesn't _trust_ me!"

Hughes blinked. "Hawkeye, I don't think…"

Riza's hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. She felt so_ foolish_…that was the _second_ time she'd lost control in front of Hughes, in the space of two weeks. She was angry, angry at Hughes for prying, angry at herself for caring so damn much, angry at Roy for being such a stubborn jackass that he couldn't even tell her he wasn't interested in her to her face and at long last sever that final, tenacious line between them that still refused to crack…

Riza was tired of feeling exhausted the minute she opened her eyes every morning. She was tired of wondering what it was she had done to cause Roy such irritation. She was tired of hoping….

"Hmph. Why does no one but my darling family ever _listen_ to me? I _told_ Roy that was what would happen. You'd just think it was something you'd done and feel guilty. But, being the moron he is, he just kept insisting this was better. He really does not use his head sometimes! You're in the military, you're pretty impressive with a pistol, and I've seen you boss around officers twice your rank…and yet Roy's still so scared that something's gonna happen to you. Stupid, huh?"

The Lieutenant Colonel put his empty coffee cup down with a grimace.

"Not to mention that he's a big phony. He _says_ he doesn't care if you get mad at him, or if you forget about him, even if you date someone else altogether…but that's a big fat lie. Obviously he does, considering he's completely miserable—I mean, have you _seen_ the guy lately? He's dragging his ass along like someone_ died_!"

Hughes shook his head, picked up his cup again, studied the brown stains on its inside a bit. He was smiling resignedly. "But nothing I could say'll snap him out of it. He's so stubborn…frankly, I think he's been having nightmares again. Remember the ones he used to have, right after the Ishbal Rebellion?"

Riza found herself nodding mechanically. Of course she remembered…he used to wake up every night screaming his head off. How could she possibly forget something like that? In the only nightmare she could ever remember having while in Ishbal, Roy had been the main character…and it wasn't even a made-up dream, but simply a reminder of all the times she couldn't give him a good night's sleep.

"So, fast-forward a bit," Hughes went on. "A man willingly allows himself to be driven nuts, just so that when he closes his eyes at night, he can try and convince himself that he's protecting a certain person. He tells himself that he's going crazy for a reason, that it's all for a good cause, yadda yadda yadda. All that hero stuff. And, just when he's starting to accept the fact that he's gonna have to go without, it happens. The person he was trying to keep safe gets attacked anyway!

"And, sure, she's not hurt that badly or anything, and he knows that if he asks her, she wouldn't even think of blaming him. He knows that she can protect herself easily, that she would get annoyed with him if he started treating her like some helpless damsel in distress. But…"

Hughes stood up and stretched. "And this is just my personal opinion, of course, seeing as how I can't _find_ Roy to _ask_ him, but, if you ask me, the man's gonna be feeling rather under the weather for a while. He went to all that trouble—even though he _reaaally_ didn't have to—and it didn't even work. He's paranoid that something's gonna happen to you that he won't be able to stop. I know it sounds stupid, but hey, try talking sense to that guy! It just doesn't work! He's so cocky and obstinate. It'd be funny if it wasn't so mind-numbingly frustrating."

Riza glanced up at him, her face pale and her dark eyes showing strands of blatant disbelief. Sure, she knew the colonel had his demons to contend with, but that didn't mean…ok, so sometimes his actions were known to surprise even her, but still…yes, Hughes would know what he was talking about, but really, it was…it was…Riza found herself at a loss. Say she even believed his preposterous story…even if it was true…that didn't mean the colonel…it was entirely possible that Roy simply was concerned with her as a friend.

Instantly, she felt her breath coming more easily again. Yes, that was it. He was worried as a friend. It was sweet, really--she'd have to scold him later for being stubborn, for letting his personal feelings interfere with his work--but hardly anything worth getting excited about. It was nice to know he wasn't angry with her, that he still considered her useful, but to even dream after all that had happened that he could…well, that was just… just stupid, really…

She stared at Hughes as he headed for the door. "Sir…Hughes…I trust you are not suggesting—"

"You know something?" Maes said loudly over her, "It's really weird how people can resist something they actually want. For instance, Roy's too freaked out to reach out and take a chance. Kinda ironic, really, when you consider that his entire persona is focused around him and that devil-may-care attitude of his. Heh, I don't know…it just seems a little off to me. Well, speaking of that bone-head, I still have make sure he doesn't go drowning his sorrows in whisky without me, so I'd better go round him up. See you, Hawkeye."

Riza sat very still, for a very long time. For some reason, after all that had just been said, the thought kept drifting through her mind that the rebirth of Roy's nightmares couldn't be a good sign…

* * *

Roy's mood was showing no signs of improving any time soon. For one thing, his head was throbbing--it felt like he was coming down with a migraine or something. Which would be just fucking _perfect_.

He wandered aimlessly down the hallway, with only a vague idea of where he was headed. He knew he should probably head back to his office; no doubt everyone was wondering where the hell he'd gone off to. But…Riza was probably still in there, and in all honesty…Roy didn't think he could face her right now.

He turned down a long, dimly lit hallway, one with only a few doors on either side. This was where several important generals had their offices, secluded from the lower-ranked personnel. Every now and then, Roy would come this way to sneer at the closed doors: _Just wait. Just wait until I knock you off the top, you selfish bastards._

He barely glanced at the doors today. With everything so confused and complicated, he didn't have the energy to spare.

Roy still wasn't sure where the hell he was _going_. His feet seemed to have been given a mind of their own, however, because they sure seemed to know. He idly contemplated ditching work early and grabbing a drink or twenty, but decided that his headache was bad enough; he didn't need a hangover on top of it.

The hallway ended in a slight curve: someone could stand at the very end and not be seen by others walking towards them until they rounded the curve themselves. Roy had always considered it a prime make-out spot, which was ironic considering any one of the persons residing in the offices around him had enough rank to send his rank crashing downwards on the spot. The Flame Alchemist always _had_ been one for doing things rather dangerously.

Roy reached the end and turned to head back, considering his next destination in the same direction_less_ manner—but he stopped when he heard the sound of high-heels clacking towards him. Maybe it was just his instincts that warned him to stay hidden.

He glanced around the corner, careful to keep himself out of sight. What he saw surprised him. Juliet Douglas, the president's personal secretary, was there, her heels echoing sharply against the tile. Roy furrowed his brows—what was _she_ doing here? As the president's closest aide, she was with him at all times, and yet here she was, alone as far as Roy could tell. He assumed, of course, that there were times when she went off by herself to do whatever it was presidential secretaries did, but come on…the president's office wasn't even in this _complex_.

Roy waited until Juliet had turned into one of the offices, then cautiously stepped out. He noted that she was in an office that currently had no occupants…so why exactly was she in there? Roy couldn't help but be just a tad suspicious. After all, considering who she worked in close contact with, there was no way she wasn't at least _aware_ of whatever the homunculi were planning.

Roy didn't know how deep she was in this mess personally--there was so much he didn't know!--or what role a normal human--she wasn't even an alchemist, after all!--could play in a homunculi conspiracy, but he did know she was mixed up in the whole thing _somehow_. And, because she was just a normal human, he also knew that when the time came down to it, she'd be the easiest person to get information out of. In Roy's humble opinion, that time had just been pushed waaay up.

He made his way quietly over to the office, glancing around every so often to make sure he was still alone in the hall. Juliet had closed the door behind her, but Roy was almost as good at eavesdropping as Hughes: by pressing his ear up against the crack between the door and the wall, he was able to make out most of the conversation. It sounded like she was on the phone.

"Yes sir…yes…I'm aware, sir. …Yes, I'm extremely disappointed as well. …Oh, rest assured, President Bradley, he met a…_fitting_ punishment. We won't have to worry about his interrupting our plans any longer, I destroyed his stone before he even realized I'd ripped it out of him. However, that still leaves the little problem of…"

There was a pause. Roy pressed his ear even closer against the door, eagerly. She was talking to Bradley! This was his chance to glean as much information as he could! One question, especially, loomed large in his mind: who was the _he_ they were talking about? The one who had 'met a fitting punishment'? And what did destroying a stone have to do with anything?

_Could they be talking about the Philosopher's Stone_?_! Could they have made one? _He frowned. _That can't be it, why would they want to destroy something they've spent so much effort trying to hunt down?_

"I will have to disagree, sir. Yes….yes…even so, if he were to find out ahead of time, before we were ready for him, the results could be devastating, as I'm sure you've long since realized. If he finds the lab before we've managed to relocate the research...Well, I still feel the original plan would work quite well; granted, it would have to involve someone more…_trustworthy_ then Greed, but I still think that if we act quickly, everything could end up falling right back into place."

Upon hearing Greed's name, Roy had jerked his head away from the door like it was on fire. Now, he stood, clenching the doorknob in one hand, struggling against the urge to run in there and blow the room--and its occupant--to bits. He was so angry, he could feel himself shaking. If that bitch was talking about replacing Greed, then that meant she was really talking about…

"_He said…he had been told to kill me because the homunculi want to hurt you…"_

Riza had escaped once. The homunculi were prepared to go after her again and again, as needed. How many times could she manage to avoid these monsters? How long would it be until Roy got the dreaded phone call? When would the image of her discreet beauty be replaced with the image of her grave?

And all of this was because of him…

"Yes sir…we will simply proceed with the plan. Provided it meets with your approval, of course." Another pause; Roy could just imagine her lips curving upwards in a sneer. "Oh, don't worry, President Bradley…the girl will be dead by this time tomorrow. I can assure you of that."

* * *

"_Roy's found a way to blame himself…he's gotta be able to reassure himself a hundred times a day that nothing's going wrong...it comes from Ishbal…"_

Guilt does not simply come and go. It leaves a stench, a slimy residue that's ever on the lookout for more filth to latch onto…

"_I think he's been having nightmares again."_

The weary are allowed no rest…they must continue to drag their chains behind them long after others have discarded theirs…

"_I can't be whatever it is you think I am!_!_"_

The last lifeline is hope…once that is gone, darkness and death are never too far away…

_Roy, why do you have to pay for the sins of the world?_

"_I will never give up on you, sir, no matter what you say. I'll always protect you. I promise."_

_That's right…I promised you._

"_I suppose the colonel really is human, after all."_

_There is a rumor going around the encampment that Roy Mustang is not from this world. The newer recruits are in awe of his prowess, his grim determination, and the fact that he never, ever, shows the strain of near-constant battle. 'It's not possible to be so immune to it all,' they whisper amongst themselves, both amazed and terrified of a man who can search for female soldiers to ask out an hour after turning human beings to ash. 'He's gotta be from another planet.' _

_What they fail to see is that the Roy Mustang they know is only a cover, an act. The Great Major Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist and soon-to-be Hero of Ishbal, is good at more then just warping flames and giving orders. He is also quite talented in the forming of shields, invisible walls he throws up between himself and the rest of the world. No one, not the young recruits, not the grim soldiers who have been there since the beginning, not his fellow State Alchemists--no one can break through these walls._

_No one…except Riza._

_And, in the beginning, she is of the same opinion as everyone else: this flirtatious major cannot be a typical human at all. She has not yet made her promise of protection and life towards him; besides that one incident by the medical tent, she has seen no sign of his inner distress. The only thing that makes this Major Mustang seem different from time to time is the way his eyes fog over when new recruits beg to hear his war stories. Scared, alone, and--usually--very young, they see Mustang as a person of decision and strength, and latch on quickly. Riza sometimes notices how forced and pained his smirk becomes when a gang of these recruits find him. He always winds up excusing himself from the conversation early, an odd maneuver for a man who loves to brag._

_By the time Riza begins to suspect there may be more to this man then meets the eye, she is too preoccupied with putting up her own defenses to react. _

_Before long, a rumor goes around that she too is inhuman. The recruits ask each other if they have ever seen her lose her calm, and find that they have not. Whereas Roy acts as if he does not mind the carnage, Riza acts as if she cannot see it. Not even the screams of frightened children can bring more then a flicker to her eyes…and if, by some chance she is affected more intensely, she turns away and grimly fights for her control, so that no one ever notices. _

_(This happens far more frequently then anyone could ever guess, but that is a secret she plans on taking with her to the grave. She learned long ago that showing weaknesses in war is not acceptable.)_

_Being someone graced with strong willpower, she blocks the more disturbing images from her mind, concentrating only on what is happening that month, that week, that day, that hour. That second. _

_And so, life in Ishbal carries on, dry and dirty. And nothing ever happens to change Riza's opinion of Roy as a typical, bloodthirsty soldier. _

_Nothing, that is, until she is on night patrol and hears strange noises coming from her commander's tent._

_At first, as she makes her round through the rows of sand-smeared tents, she thinks it is only the wind, wailing softly through the burning sky. However, she soon notices that the noises are the loudest coming from one particular tent--Mustang's tent. _

_She hesitates a bit, because for a lower-ranked soldier to barge into the tent of her commander while on duty is almost unheard of. Still, she makes up her mind once she hears the noises again, louder; it sounds like the major is having a nightmare, and if someone else heard, he'd be furious. It would mean a loss of pride, and that is the one thing she does not think he could stand to lose._

_She pulls back the tent flap, her eyes quickly adjusting to the gloom inside. Outside, at least, there is light from the moon, as well as from the fires distantly burning over in Ishbal's streets. _

_(Those fires never completely go out; they smolder day in and day out, sending steel-grey waves of smoke up to the heavens…the devil's personal calling card. In a hundred years, Riza is certain the fires will still be there, burning.)_

_Inside the major's tent, there is no light at all, be it from the moon or from the flames._

"_Major…?" she calls softly, unwilling to disturb him. "Is everything alright in here, sir?"_

_The only answer given to her is another low sound that can only be described as a moan. She moves a bit closer to his cot, wondering if he has fallen ill. When she gets close enough, she sees that he is thrashing around on his cot, the sheets twisted around him, and his face glistening with sweat. He mumbles something, some sort of curse or shout, and flings one arm out as if swatting something away from him. Another groan escapes his lips._

"_Noo….nngh…I'm…sorree…"_

_Riza blinks. She has only heard the major apologize once before, and the sound of the word 'sorry' coming from him still seems very unusual. _

"_Don'…don' touch me…wasn' my…I din't mean to…don' kill me!" He flings out another arm, nearly hitting Riza in the process. "I din't mean to! Go aw'y…"_

_Riza suddenly feels very uncomfortable. This is not the Roy Mustang she is accustomed to. This is not the lecherous god famous throughout the camp, infamous in Ishbal. This is a scared, lonely soldier, a frightened kid with a cracked conscious. He looks so __**young**__, lying there fidgeting and whimpering in his sleep. _

_It hits Riza, suddenly, that she has no idea how old the major really is. Looking at him now, she would say early twenties…a sad and shocking fact considering the hell he is submerged in. Not that it's unusual for a person that age to be in the military; that's how old she is, after all. It's just that, during the day, he seems so much older…during the day, he is a leader of men who would follow him anywhere, and everyone, including her, either looks up to him or is afraid…_

"_Pleese…s-stop…ugh…"_

_Riza is starting to feel sick, seeing this. Roy Mustang is a person she looks up to, admires, despite his crimes….or maybe even because of his crimes, because he is one of the few who will even admit that he__** is**__ a criminal. But, here, pleading with ghosts, begging for his life--something she is sure he would never do in real life--he does not seem like the same man. The same man…_

_She shakes her head, thinking of all the rumors, all the soldiers who call him ruthless and cold-blooded. Watching him act like this, it's all too obvious that Roy __is__ human…extremely so. He must just be better at hiding it. But, as someone who's excelled at that 'talent' as well, Riza can see now that he's got his demons to contend with like everyone else. They might even be worse then with everyone else, because instead of letting them out as they come, the major bottles his up, until they burst out of him in a never-ending stream…until night falls and his defenses fail._

_She is shocked to find herself comparing herself to him. She has never really felt anything but respect for him before, but now she feels she is beginning to understand him, this Roy Mustang of so much fame_. _What a strange group of creatures these State Alchemists are, she muses. _

_Or at least, what a strange creature this one is._

_One more soft cry from the major, and she leans down, grasping him by the shoulders._ "_Sir," she says loudly, "wake up. You're having a bad dream. Major Mustang, sir, please wake up."_

_He stirs, squirms a bit more, and then finally opens his eyes. He sits up, slowly, dazed and disoriented._

"_Whuh…where the heck…?" He rubs his eyes, but his hands slow as he realizes he is not alone. He glances up at Riza, and his eyes widen with surprise and confusion. "Ser…Sergeant…? What are you…?"_

_She turns to go, figuring the quicker she gets out of there, the less time he'll have to reprimand her. "I apologize for overstepping my boundaries, sir, but you were having a nightmare and I felt I should awaken you."_

_He reaches out and grabs her by the arm. "Wait." _

_She turns back in surprise. "Major…?"_

"_You…woke me up?"_

_She nods. "Yes sir. You sounded distressed, so I decided to wake you up. I did not mean to intrude on you." She says this calmly, hoping that he will let her go without too much ranting._

"_You…you didn't intrude, Sergeant, but…it's just…" Roy still sounds confused. "Why?"_

_She stares at him. "…Why what, sir?"_

_He shakes his head, slowly. "Most people in your position would have either been too afraid to come in here, or would have gone off running to spread the gossip."_

_She shrugs slightly, and a startled look comes into his eyes as he realizes she did not even consider the latter, and the former for only a second. Who is this girl, that she can retain such quiet human dignity in a place like this?_

"_Permission to leave, sir?"_

"_Huh? Oh—yeah, of course…" It strikes him as very peculiar that __**she**__ is the one who must ask __**him**__ for such matters…it feels like it should be the other way around, like __**he**__ should be taking orders from __**her. **__"And, uh, you don't have to bother asking for stuff like that any more, ok?"_

_She nods, "yes sir," and is gone. Roy sits and stares after her. He is not yet used to these nightmares, but he's been having them every night for a while now, and it's gotten to the point where he's afraid to close his eyes at night. Yet, somehow, that girl has chased away all his fears, at least for the time being. It just seems so weird…_

_Riza is still mulling over the encounter as she ends her shift and returns to her own tent. Although she does not realize it at the time, from then on she feels much more protective towards the major, who is, after all, not an inhuman god, but just a cocky young soldier trying to get by. From then on, whenever she is on patrol at night, she pauses at the entrance to his tent, just checking, although she is not sure why. And from then on, whenever she is on patrol Roy sleeps easily…he comes to look forward to those nights, because he knows that he will not have any nightmares while he sleeps, and that even if he does, his sergeant will be there to chase them away. They never speak about this; no words are passed between them, no agreement signed. Nevertheless, it remains a pact that Riza refuses to break, as solid for her as if it were set in stone. _

_When she hears the others talking about her and the major, about their calm in the face of battle and how there's no way they could be human, she has to smile. And sometimes the major catches her eye, and they grin knowingly at each other. Riza might not have been sure of it when she first arrived, but she knows without a doubt now:_

"_I suppose the colonel really is human, after all."_

_Unfortunately…_

_Unfortunately, the ending isn't quite so pristine. A few weeks later, Riza finds herself plagued by nightmares as well--or, to be more specific, a certain nightmare, the only one she can remember having in a long time. And it's not even a dream, but a memory, or at least a shard of one…_

_Because, in the dream, she is in the major's tent again, standing over him, watching as he twists and cries out. She always wakes up just as she is about to wake __**him**__ up. The dream only lasts a few seconds, a minute at best, and yet there is something so disturbing about it…there is something so disturbing about seeing someone at their weakest, especially someone who is known for being very strong._

_The nightmare lingers for a week or so, and then fades, and Riza is both glad and disappointed when it leaves. Glad, because now she can finally get a good night's sleep…and disappointed, because Roy, despite the other side he has shown her, remains tough and unreachable during the day, and she does not want to lose out on the only way she has to remind herself that Roy Mustang __**is**__, in fact, human…_

* * *

"The girl will be dead by this time tomorrow. I can assure you of that."

"Like hell!"

The words exploded from Roy before he had a chance to stop himself. His hands flew up to cover his mouth, but it was too late, of course; inside the room, Juliet Douglas fell silent.

_Aw, shit,_ he cursed to himself. _Way to go!_

His hand tightened on the doorknob again. Douglas was still keeping quiet, probably listening for more of Roy's dumb mistakes. He shrugged, glared at the door, finally figured, _the hell with it_…and yanked the door open.

He stomped into the room, expecting to see a shocked and/or angry young woman staring back at him—and instead found the room utterly and completely empty. He skidded to a stop in the middle, blinking in astonishment.

_What the heck?! I saw her go in here…I was listening in on her conversation with Bradley and everything!_ Roy looked around the office uncertainly. _There's only one doorway…maybe she's hiding somewhere…?_

He took a step towards the desk sitting against the far wall. A thick layer of dust lying on its surface was broken only in a few places, with what looked like fingerprints.

_She was definitely in here._

He looked down at the phone; the receiver was back on its hook, but, like the desk it sat on, there were fingerprints on the handle.

_That settles it. The rat's hiding._

Roy's eyes darted over to the only real hiding place in the room: a small closet, with a closed wooden door. He moved towards it, smirking. Revenge might be bad, but it sure as fuck felt good.

"Where's the little bitch who's been threatening my lieutenant?" he growled softly, feeling adrenalin take over. "Where's the little bitch who's been causing me so much aggravation?"

He reached the door, and slowly turned the handle…with a snarl, he threw it open, and was instantly attacked by—

Dust.

"Argh! Goddamn it!" Roy jumped back, his black hair white with powder. "Don't the janitors bother _cleaning_ any more!?" Furious, he searched the small closet up and down, but the unseemly truth remained: the only things hiding in _this_ closet were dust bunnies.

The Flame Alchemist slammed the door shut, seething. How in hell was this possible?! The woman wasn't _invisible_! There was no way she'd gotten past him.

Roy turned and surveyed the room again. This time, his eyes fell on the cloudy window in front of him. He stepped up to it, and peered through the dirty glass. Was it possible she'd opened the window and jumped out? He tried opening it; the thing groaned with age and stuck slightly for a second, but then slid open more or less all the way. In any case, there was enough room for a slender person like Juliet Douglas to slip through.

Still…Roy looked out the window again. This room was on the third floor, so it wasn't _impossible_ for someone to jump out of a window and survive…but a woman in a business suit and high-heels? It didn't seem very likely.

Roy sighed, figuring she must have somehow landed in the bushes. He slumped against the wall, but jumped a bit when he felt something cold ooze against his back.

_What the hell—_

But it was just water, dripping slowly down the walls and oozing into the worn carpet. There must have been a leak somewhere from all the rain.

It was then that the full realization of what'd just happened hit him. Not only was Riza still in trouble, but he'd just let one of the chief organizers of the whole damn thing slip through his fingers. His bitter disappointment was quickly swallowed by a boiling flash of anger…of frustration.

_Those bastards…they're gonna go after her again! They're still trying to kill her! Those assholes…those goddamn freaks!_

His fingers were digging deep into his palm; so deep, in fact, that there was a sharp little twinge of pain, and tiny droplets of blood began running down his hand. He ignored them.

"I won't let them!" he swore aloud, violently. "That's _my_ promise…that's _my_ mission! I'll kill them before they can even _try_ to hurt her again! I don't care what it takes! I will stop this…_all of this!"_

The blood dripped from his hand and fell to the rug, mingling with the water below.

* * *

Hughes was still searching for Roy when he happened to pass by the hallway that had all the higher-ups working off it. He turned down it on a hunch, and, sure enough, the ever-so-familiar sound of Roy cursing reached his ears.

He rolled his eyes. Roy Mustang hanging out in an unused office ranting to himself was never a good sign.

Hughes stepped inside one of the rooms, wrinkling his nose as water burbled up around his feet. (Darn leaking roof!) Roy was standing by the window, head down and fingers clenched into fists. Instinctively, Hughes knew something bad was up, and proceeded with caution.

"Hey…Roy? Everything ok…?"

Roy's head darted up, and he looked at Hughes without saying anything. He didn't have to say a word.

Hughes felt a shiver crawl up his spine at the look in his friend's eyes. It was an ugly expression, a cruel expression, an expression of hate--hate so deep and so overwhelming that it almost seemed inhuman. Hate so black, so heated, so _angry_…

"R-Roy…? What happened?"

"They're not done, Hughes," Roy hissed at him.

"'They'?"

"The homunculi. They're not done. I just overheard that bitch Douglas planning it all out. She was deciding on what homunculus to attack Riza with next…there seems to be a never-ending _supply_ of them to choose from!"

Hughes's head began to pound. "Are you serious?"

Roy looked at his opened hands. There was still blood welling from his palms.

"I'm going to stop them," he snarled to the air. "I'm not going to sit here and let them get away with this. No more fucking pointless _research_. This is it…I'm going to destroy those goddamn freaks once and for all. I don't care what happens, not one of them is escaping. _Not one."_

Hughes, knowing it would be pointless to argue with Roy when he was in a mood like this one, held in his unease. "Ok. Ok, as soon as we come up with a plan, we'll—"

Roy pushed past him and walked out without waiting for him to finish.

"Well, shit," Maes said dryly, to the dust. "Looks like I'll be working late for a while."

* * *

EDIT--Agusut ?, 2008: Oh, fuck. Took me half a year to get around to this fic. Kept putting it off as too demoralizing; I'm not making the story go from bad to good, I'm making it go from bad to slightly less bad. Oh, my foolish 15-year-old self who thought she could write!

(And yet, despite everything, I still have fond memories of this heap of plot-holes and bad characterization. Everyone's got to start somewhere, right?)


	14. Chapter 13

AN- Hi all. The delay this time around was unfortunatly unavoidable; I hadda go up to Boston for Thanksgiving, then I got sick, and then I had the worst case of writer's block I've had so far. I was working on it late the other night, but that episode of FMA was just so funny I couldn't concentrate. I'd bet my house Riza was dreaming about Roy!

R+R as always!

* * *

**Of Fear **

And so it began.

Riza, at first, wasn't sure _what_ the hell had happened; Roy had come blazing into the office some time around 1:30 A.M., looking like he would fry the first person to look at him cross-eyed. He'd stomped around for a bit, ranting about God knows what, before telling her gruffly to get some rest. She was going to ask him what was wrong--it wasn't like she was all that tired anyway--when Hughes had showed up. He'd done his best to calm the colonel down, but finally had just dragged Riza out, shaking his head and saying that the only thing they could do was let Roy blow off some steam. Then, back in Hughes's office, he'd told her why Roy was so pissed in the first place.

Riza wasn't _surprised_ by the news that she was still the homunculi's target; she'd expected as much. What surprised her was how Roy was _taking_ that news--usually he didn't let others see that their threats were getting to him. His pride wouldn't allow it.

Of course, Hughes had gone off on a tangent about what it all _meant_, about how it was just more proof that Roy was 'so crazy over you, he can't even _think_ straight!', but she'd tuned him out. Even if it _was_ true--which it wasn't--if she was going to be that much of a disturbance for him, then maybe the higher-ups were smarter then she'd given them credit for, creating that no-fraternization rule. The colonel only had room for one worry right now, and it should definitely _not_ have been her.

The homunculi, the threats, becoming president…_those_ were the issues he should have been focused on. Not her. Not their messed-up relationship and whatever the hell had changed between them.

Riza knew she was turning into a real distraction, never mind what Maes Hughes's foolhardy opinions were. He was just being naive, seeing only the good and not the bad…! Even assuming the colonel was interested: even ignoring all the times he'd dated other women, all the times he'd _insisted_ he was never settling down, all the girls in the city who claimed he was 'in love' with them…even ignoring all that…Riza still knew not to bother hoping. The colonel was too smart to open up that Pandora's box.

Roy would never do anything that might endanger his rise to the top; he'd often said so himself. If he was to start throwing it all away…if he was to start throwing all he'd worked and sweated and bled for away, just because of her…well…it was simply something she never wanted to see. It was simply something he would never do, not for anyone…not for Riza Hawkeye.

The first lieutenant understood all this completely. She knew her chances with Roy were nonexistent, she knew he wouldn't date a fellow soldier because it might affect his personal goals (goals that were as much hers as his, frankly). Didn't she want to see Roy make it to the top? Wasn't she willing to stay on the sidelines if it would help him become president? Of course she was…

And yet…

And yet, sometimes, late at night, something inside Riza would whisper that she was wrong. That Roy _would_ throw everything away for someone he cared about…that he would turn his back on his mission without thinking twice for someone he loved. Even though her rational mind disagreed with a vengeance, that little voice would simply not shut up. Even though her rational mind told her it was reckless, it was risky, it was rash and dangerous and _stupid_ to have a relationship with a commanding officer…even with all that, her conscience sang with the idea, with the certainty that it was the right thing to do.

The right thing to do…_how could __**that**__ be the right thing to do?_

How could endangering both their goals and their lives, not to mention the lives of everyone around them, for some crazy emotion be the right thing to do? Since when was it smart to be stupid?

(But always she remembered a hot and sticky day back in Ishbal, by a crowded medical tent, where a young and overwhelmed major had asked her why she didn't just run away…)

* * *

"First Lieutenant Hawkeye?"

Riza lifted her head out of her arms, dragging herself out of a restless sleep. Considering the time, she'd decided not to bother going back home, and had instead gone down to the cafeteria. It was late enough that the morning crew had already arrived to open it up, and one of the workers was nice enough to boil up a pot of coffee for her. She'd sat down at one of the tables, hoping the extra caffeine would help keep her awake. Instead, she'd promptly fallen asleep.

Sergeant Major Kain Fury stood next to the table, in a stiff salute. Hawkeye stood up, making sure her bun was still in. It always annoyed her when it came loose at work.

"Sergeant Major…what time is it?"

"10:30, sir."

Riza frowned. Usually she was at her desk and working by eight.

"First Lieutenant, the colonel has asked for everyone to meet in his office."

Riza raised an eyebrow. "Did he say why?"

"No sir…he sounded very serious, so I'm assuming it has something to do with…" Kain's voice trailed off, and he glanced around the now-bustling cafeteria. Riza let out a slight sigh.

"Understood. Tell him I'll be there shortly."

"Yes sir." Fury saluted again and left.

Riza stretched, understandably tired considering she'd slept for exactly four hours—and slumped over in a chair, on top of it. Plus, her head was still aching from that damn cut…she rubbed the area experimentally and winced. Great: it was still bleeding. Riza decided she'd better make a detour to the bathroom before she went to the colonel's office.

A few minutes after she'd left, the slender, brown-haired woman sitting in the opposite corner, out of sight of everyone else in the room, put down her own coffee cup and stood up. She wasn't in uniform, and her non-regulation high-heels clacked against the tile as she rose. As she passed, the woman behind the food counter smiled at her.

"Is there anything else you'd like, Ms.?"

"No."

"Are you sure? I can make another pot of coffee for the president if you'd like, it'd only take a few minutes."

"Sorry. I'm afraid I'm busy right now." Sloth turned and left without another word.

* * *

Roy paced behind his desk, back-and-forth, back-and-forth. Behind him, everyone was muttering amongst themselves, trying to figure out just what was going on. Maybe it was the way Roy was fidgeting that told them this wouldn't be an ordinary meeting.

Fury, Breida, and Falman whispered--loudly--about what might be happening. Havoc joined in every now and then, but for the most part just leaned back in his chair and smoked. Hughes sat off to one side, unusually quiet and grim-faced. Armstrong, apparently noticing this, was also keeping quiet.

Roy kept pacing. "Dammit…" he muttered, "Where the heck is Hawkeye already!?"

"I told her just like you said, sir," Fury said nervously. Roy looked…rather angry today. "She said she would be up in a minute…"

"It's been more then a minute!"

Hughes raised an eyebrow. "Jeez, Roy, she's probably on her way right now." Roy mumbled something and flopped down into his chair.

"The colonel sure is upset today," Falman whispered to Breida (or, at least, _tried_ to whisper; the whole room heard anyway.)

"Yeah, I know," Breida 'whispered' back. "What do you think happened?"

"Maybe someone else was attacked!" Fury broke in excitedly.

"How could someone be attacked? We've all been here in Headquarters the entire night."

"Well…maybe someone was attacked _inside_ Headquarters!"

"I guess that's possible…but who? I wasn't attacked…"

"Me either."

"Me either."

"Hey, Havoc, were you attacked last night by any chance?"

"Does it _look_ like I was attacked?"

"Weell…"

"Not funny, Breida!"

"Shut it," Roy growled at them, and the whole bunch gulped and went quiet. And stayed quiet. Hughes sighed, his eyes on Roy, who had gotten up and was now pacing again.

Back-and-forth, back-and-forth, back-and-forth…

The door opened, and everyone in the room turned to see who was coming in, simply because it was something to do to relive the tension. Riza raised an eyebrow as she sat down next to Hughes. _Now_ what was going on?

Roy watched her sit down, then cleared his throat. "Ok, here's the deal—" He stopped abruptly. "Someone want to close the door?" he asked testily.

Riza got up again and went to shut it, seeing as how she was the one who hadn't closed it to begin with. As she turned to go back to her seat, her boot heel sank into the carpet with a slight _squish_. Water bubbled up around her foot.

"It looks like another part of the roof is leaking, sir," she informed him as she sat down.

Hughes shook his head. "Stupid building can't even hold up under a little rain."

Breida snorted. "A _little_ rain? It's been pouring for three days! It's been drizzling since last _Friday_!"

"Well, yeah, but you think the _president's_ building is leaking-?"

"If we could drop this _fascinating_ conversation for a minute…" Roy snapped. Everyone fell silent again, but it was an uneasy silence at best. "Ok, listen up. The homunculi have made the first move. We're going to be making the second."

Riza clenched her fists and hoped what she was really feeling didn't show up on her face.

"Um…sir?" Fury spoke up timidly. "I-Is that wise, sir? I mean, considering that there's still so much we have to learn…"

"Yeah, really, chief," Havoc added around his cig. "Why so hasty all of a sudden?"

Roy didn't answer. _Because of me,_ Riza wanted to scream, _because of me!_ He was acting stupid and reckless all because of her! Whatever happened from here on in was her fault! No wonder Hughes looked so tired; he'd probably spent half the night trying to talk sense to Roy. He must not have been successful, although it wasn't like that was some big surprise. Once Roy made up his mind there was no stopping him.

Roy spoke up again. "We're making our move now because now is our best chance of success."

_Liar…_Riza snarled mentally. _Liar…why don't you just tell them all the real reason?_ Dammit, she never wanted this…she never wanted to be something the colonel had to _protect_…

"It's a pretty simple plan," Roy continued. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes did some research and found out that once or twice a month, President Bradley falls off the radar. Even his own secretaries don't seem to knew where it is he vanishes off to." His lips curved upwards in a derisive smirk. "It took Hughes three days to track him down."

Hughes nodded but still didn't say anything. That only made Riza more apprehensive: was Roy's plan _that_ dangerous that _Hughes_ was worried?

"There's an old prison on the outskirts of the city. It hasn't been used since before the Rebellion, probably because there were a lot of complaints of prisoner abuse circulating out of that place. What with the war in Ishbal, the last thing the higher-ups wanted was another scandal, so they closed it down. We have reason to believe it's being used as another laboratory directed towards creating the Philosopher's Stone. You know, along the lines of Laboratory 5."

"So the president is going there every month to check on the research…" Falman said slowly.

"Most of the top research facilities for these creatures are in the city," Roy nodded, "presumably so that Bradley can get to them without causing too much suspicion. It would look kind of strange if he was traveling out of the city without the usual billion-man escort every month, don't you think?"

"The nerve of these villains, using our beloved city as a tool in their hideous plot!" Armstrong thundered.

Roy rolled his eyes. "Take it easy. If everything goes the way I've planned, they won't be using Central much longer. Now here's the deal.

"Armstrong: you, Breida, and Falman will stay here. Act like it's just a normal day, but keep your ears and eyes open. If you hear any sign that the higher-ups have gotten wind of something, get in touch with Fury. He'll be in touch with Hughes via radio.

"Hughes, you already know your role: you, Havoc, and Riza will be stationed around the building. If any of you see anyone--other homunculi, other soldiers, _anyone_--heading towards the building, make sure Hughes knows. Then the two of you hold them off just long enough so that Hughes can reach the power box. It's right next to the building, won't take him more then five seconds to reach. Once the lights go off, I'll know to get out of there. But," and here he gave both Riza and Havoc a stern frown, "like I said, it should only take Hughes a few seconds. Neither one of you is to try and stop whoever's coming, got me? Hold them for a second or two, and then _back off_. I don't want _any_ casualties on our side. Any questions?"

Riza looked around incredulously. Surely someone was going to say something--but no, everyone else was shaking their heads. Hot anger rushed through her. What _was_ this? Yes, Roy was angry, yes, no one wanted to piss him off even further, _fine_--but they couldn't honestly agree to this!

Roy turned and started shuffling up papers. "Right, well, if no one's got any questions, then—"

"Colonel Mustang…" He turned back. Riza was on her feet. "Sir…according to this…plan…you'll be inside fighting against President Bradley…_alone_?"

"Yeah…" Roy hedged. A cowardly little part of him had hoped Riza would somehow miss that particular detail, but of _course_ she'd picked it up first thing.

"So, if something goes wrong, who will be there to back you up?"

"Well, like I said, if Hughes cuts the power then I'll know—"

Her voice rose ever-so-slightly. "That isn't what I meant. Sir, if you're injured or…if you're alone in the building, and something goes wrong, how will anyone else know? Even if you stay in contact with Fury, it will take Hughes, Havoc, and myself several minutes to reach you. Anything could happen by then! Someone needs to be with you, as support."

"No."

"But _sir_—"

"Meeting's over. Tomorrow's the day—we're moving fast, so be prepared."

One by one, they filed out, muttering amongst themselves. Hughes was the last to leave, and as he headed out, he saw Riza still standing there, stiffly, and shook his head. He'd tried everything to convince Roy not to go through with this plan of his…or at least, not to go through with that particular part of this plan of his. It really was a stupid, risky thing to do, going in head first and without any immediate backup.

Plus, who was he trying to kid? He had to know Riza would spot the problem instantly and bring it up, and he had to know she'd never agree with it. But Roy was stubborn as always, and he refused to put anyone else in a dangerous position. He wasn't dumb (though he was sure _acting_ like it lately); he knew what the chances of him walking into this, and being able to walk back out were. He wasn't about to subject anyone else to those weak odds…

But, just because he wanted to face Bradley by himself, didn't mean he was going to be able to so easily. After all, when was the last time Riza'd let the colonel do something dumb 'just because he wanted to'?

Roy was looking out the window, so he didn't notice at first that he wasn't alone. It wasn't until he turned around and saw her that he realized Riza was still there.

"Lieutenant…?"

She inhaled sharply. Roy noted that, although she stood rigid the way a soldier was supposed to, her hands were clenched by her sides. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"Uh…yeah, sure. Go ahead, Hawkeye."

"Sir, with all due respect…"- she took another deep breath- "you've lost your mind!"

Roy blinked. "…Alright…"

She sighed. "I apologize, Colonel Mustang, for overstepping my boundaries and speaking to you inappropriately." Her voice rose again, sounding more distressed then she realized. "But, sir, you can't honestly expect this plan to work!"

He looked at her, expressionless. "Can't I?"

"No!" The lieutenant closed her eyes briefly, struggling to get a hold on herself. But, when she looked at him again, the note of pleading was still coming through her eyes loud and clear. "Walking into a potentially fatal situation with no knowledge of what you're about to face…there could be other homunculi already there, or…sir, it's too risky! You could be seriously injured!"

"And you think having one more person there with me will honestly make any difference?"

"It would help. At least then, if you are injured, there will be someone else to keep fighting, to cover you…"

"Sorry, Hawkeye. But I've got to do things differently this time around."

"Why?!" It all rushed out of her; there was no controlling the words spilling out of her mouth. It was all she could do not to _slap_ him. "Why do you have to do things differently? Why do you have to do this at _all_?"

He opened his mouth, to answer or to yell, but she kept speaking. Her voice and her gaze both dropped. "It's…because of me, isn't it, sir? Because of what happened earlier…"

Roy's throat closed up, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. "Lieutenant…it's not…"

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes informed me," she said softly. "He told me that the homunculi are still targeting me. Sir, I'm not afraid or…you don't need to rush into anything." Again, her tone became pleading; again, Roy found himself wanting to break down and tell her everything, but couldn't…

"Sir, please. I understand you want to protect those under you, but there's no need in this case. I'll be careful…I'll be fine."

_Riza, I know…I know you're not afraid, I know that! But I __**am**__ afraid, dammit!_

"I won't allow myself to be a distraction to you."

_A distraction? But you're not…_

He finally found a shred or two of his voice. "Listen, Hawkeye, one of my subordinates has been threatened. I'm not about to take that lying down."

_Yes, because that's all it is…that's all you are…a subordinate, right? Goddamn. _

"I've done more planning then you give me credit for. I've known about Bradley going to the prison for a while now—it isn't as though I decided all this last second. Hughes and I've been mulling over what to do with this information for weeks…" He paused. "The incident with Greed has sped up our schedule. We're moving earlier then expected. That's all that's changed."

"But that's a lot to change, Colonel!"

_Even if I told you why I have to do this, you wouldn't understand…!_ _You wouldn't understand if I told you—maybe it __**doesn't**__ make sense. You and I aren't even…_

Lieutenant Hawkeye shook her head. "Then at least allow someone to go with you!"

Roy knew what she was really saying. It had come down to it--in a way he had always known it would--and now his stomach clenched at the thought of what he had to say.

"Sir…" Riza began, "Sir…Second Lieutenant Havoc will be able to do what you assigned the two of us to do himself…so…." She looked him square in the eyes. "Colonel, I would like to be permitted to go alongside you as backup when you fight the president."

So…there it was. As long as she only hinted at it, he could pretend not to understand what she was saying, but now…

"Sir, please allow me to—"

"No." Said with his back to her, said coldly, said without even the slightest hint of emotion.

"_Colonel_…" She was getting desperate now, he could hear it in her voice.

"I said no!"

_Don't ask me…_

"Colonel, I—"

_After everything, you can't ask me…_

"Colonel Mustang!"

With sudden violence the colonel smashed his fist into the wall. It struck him as odd that it did not hurt.

"_I said no_, Hawkeye! Shit, since when are you such a glory hound that you can't be on the sidelines!"

Absolute silence met his outburst. Roy knew instantly that he had gone way, _way_ too far. A quick look back at Hawkeye's expression only confirmed that sinking suspicion: fury, cold, hard, raging fury, was etched over her face. Her beautiful features were sunk into an infuriated glare.

"I would hope," Riza said in a voice that shook with anger, "that you knew that my concerns have nothing to do with glory. I would hope that you would know that I'm only concerned about your well-being." She turned on her heel to go.

Roy rubbed his forehead. "Hawkeye, wait," he said tiredly. "I know…I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

She paused. Turned to look at him again. This time, she didn't even bother to hide the worry in her voice. "Colonel, I just want to…"

"I know." He smiled, weary. "I was hoping you'd get mad enough to drop it, because I don't want anyone to get hurt needlessly. Not because of me."

She couldn't help but smile slightly. "I understand, Colonel. But protecting you has always been my job." Another pause. Roy threw up his hands.

"Guess I can't escape it." He rubbed his eyes. "You really want to come with me."

She nodded, and without a second of hesitation said, "Yes sir."

"But, Hawkeye…it's going to be pretty…you know…rough."

"Ah…that's _why_ I want to go with you, sir."

_Doesn't anything scare this girl??_

Unfortunately for Roy, he was running out of ideas. He couldn't scare her into not going, he couldn't reason with her into not going…so what exactly was he supposed to say? 'Sure, why not, come along for the ride?' No way in hell.

Maybe it _was_ dumb and over-protective and all that crap…maybe it _was_ pointless to try and protect someone already in the military; after all, what was he gonna do next time she received an order to ship out to some battlefield somewhere?

But Roy refused to put her in harm's way unnecessarily. He would not--he _could_ not. What was the point in reasoning it away? It'd remain a truth no matter what. Her job might have been to guard his back, but that didn't mean she had to risk her life for him when it wasn't absolutely vital that she do so. Funny, how crazed being head-over-heels for her made things…

Only, how exactly was he supposed to tell Riza all that?

He eyed her. She was looking at him expectantly. Waiting. Showing no signs of giving in.

Dammit.

He could always just order her to follow his plan as it was, she'd have to listen to him then…but…he had a sneaking suspicion he'd feel even crappier if he resorted to _that._ He had to say _something_, though, didn't he? Even if all he could think to say left him stalling uselessly.

"Tell you what, Hawkeye. I'll think about it and let you know."

She stared at him. "But, sir, if this is all _taking place_ tomorrow—" she started to protest.

"Relax, Hawkeye. I promise I'll decide in time to let you know. Now, why don't you go home and get some rest." It wasn't a request.

Riza started to argue with him, but thought the better of it and saluted, however grudgingly. "Understood, sir." She stalked out, not looking any happier then she had _before_ the conversation.

Roy sank down into his chair. All of a sudden, he wanted a drink very, _very_ badly.

* * *

Well, Roy thought about it. And thought about it. And thought about it some more. He wasn't sure what everyone else was doing during this last, long night before all hell broke loose, but he, for one, was tossing and turning in bed: questioning, worrying, wondering. At this rate, he'd be lucky if he could even _stand_ tomorrow, much less fight a homunculus.

The lieutenant was just that—his lieutenant—his protector—she stood by him and fought for his goals, and he had no right to deny her that task now, when they were so close to the end…

But everything in his being wanted to see her out of harm's way, protected from this chaos…

She didn't want his protection, didn't think she needed it—but, oh! after that incident with Greed! How could he—how could _she_? —pretend nothing had changed since then? _Everything_ had changed since then. Now Roy knew how much he needed her by him, needed her _safe_.

A fool's desire…a pipedream…_Riza_…

The past week had dragged on forever and a day. So why was it that now, when what Roy wanted most was nothing more then an extra hour to figure things out, time chose to speed up faster then he previously thought possible? It all came at him in a rush. Boom, he was meeting with his soldiers. Boom, he was going over last-minute details, letting his team grasp the idea that this was all _happening_. Boom, he was leaving Headquarters with everyone falling neatly into their places. Boom, he was standing a few blocks from the old prison, alone—well, not _quite_ alone…

"Colonel Mustang, I still await my orders…?"

Roy turned and looked at her, gritting his teeth. The day was cloudy, cold, gloomy. As gloomy as it had been all week. His lieutenant—loyal, faithful…--stood there, watching him.

Riza wasn't going to be thrilled with this, but what could he do? It was the best he could come up with under the circumstances.

"Lieutenant…you're to wait here."

"Sir—?!"

He spoke over her objections, his tone firm and unwavering. "Hear me out here, Hawkeye. I'm going on ahead. Hopefully, Bradley'll underestimate me when he realizes I've come alone. After—wait, just listen—after twenty minutes, you have my permission to come in after me."

"But why…"

"Look, Hughes looked into all this and discovered that, despite what you'd think, the prison isn't all that heavily guarded. The more soldiers they have watching over the place, the more chances for someone to squeal, and the homunculi don't want that happening. The president's being so close to the building is protection enough for them: there's no denying how strong Bradley is."

"Which means you'll need help defeating—"

"Which means it'll boil down to just me and him. The way I always planned for it to be."

Hawkeye saw Mustang's eyes grow hard, and distant. Despite everything, a shiver ran down her back.

"I need to be able to handle him on my own," he said quietly. "Guns didn't work against Greed, and they won't work against Bradley. I'm the only one that will fight the homunculus Pride."

"Sir—"

"But as my subordinate…" Colonel Mustang gave her a surprisingly soft smile. "As my right-hand woman, you do have the right to continue to guard my back. After twenty minutes, any other soldiers that might have been alerted will have had the chance to arrive from HQ. I can't handle both them and Bradley. That's where you come in.

"Protect my back the way you've always done, Lieutenant. I'll trust you to keep other soldiers away. I'll trust you to keep me safe."

Lieutenant Hawkeye opened her mouth to argue, but then gave up and nodded. Obviously, she wasn't going to get a better deal then this.

(_I'll trust you to keep me safe…_

Could she stand to wait twenty minutes before she was able to help?)

"Right, " Roy said awkwardly. What exactly was he supposed to say to her now?

Riza watched her commanding officer fumble around for words. She felt a mixture of fear (fear for him, for what he was about to do) and acceptance, because she knew that there was nothing she could do now but hope that when she arrived, Bradley would be losing ground. Hope the colonel was right in suspecting there would be few guards to deal with. Hope that twenty minutes wouldn't linger.

"I'd better get going."

Colonel Mustang took a step, but paused. Riza's brows furrowed as she noticed a strange stiffness spread through him. Her instincts were sending off alarm bells again, warning her that she wasn't going to like what he was about to say.

"Listen, Hawkeye…" Her eyes darted to his face, his tone of voice scaring her more then he could ever know. It sounded so aloof, so stiff, so…final. So very much like a goodbye…

"Look, Hughes might outrank you, but he's not under my jurisdiction, so…"

Sick dread enveloped her…she tried to ignore what she knew he was saying.

He hesitated for a split-second, and then shook his head. "I mean, you're next in command after me. So, if it comes to that…"

"It won't." Her voice was so firm, but inside, she was screaming.

_Don't tell me that! I'm not ready for it! I never will be!_

He smiled. "I know it won't."

Riza tried to catch his eyes, desperately…she tried to tell him with her own that it wouldn't end that way…but his face was tilted away from her. He was pushing himself away, again. Again and again and again…

_Why do you do that? Why can't you let me shoulder half your burden?_

Roy was walking away from her now, looking forward like his life depended on not looking back. Which, he thought with a bitter laugh, was the truth—if he looked back, if he saw her face, he knew he'd scream.

Riza had an urge to run after him, grab him, force him to stop and look her in the eyes. But, she couldn't…even for love, she couldn't break the code of following orders she'd practiced for years and years. She could only stand there, watching, knowing in her heart and in her soul that he was not wholly planning on coming back.

And then, as she stood there and watched, the panic began to morph into something else. Something that felt a lot like—a lot like _anger_.

(Hughes's worried face flashed into her mind; she thought with increasing fury of how upset she knew he must have been, listening to Roy's plan without being able to save his closest friend from this crazy form of suicide he was seemingly so bent on.)

Riza wondered about this new feeling inside of her; a minute ago, she'd felt only fear, but now…but now…but now, she was _pissed_! How dare he! How dare that selfish, self-centered, egotistical bastard of a colonel willingly walk into an almost-certain-to-be-fatal situation! Did he think she was so strong she could ever even hope to survive his death? Did he think it was only _his_ life he was throwing away?

"Colonel!" Roy stopped, despite himself. He didn't turn to face her, so Hawkeye spoke to his back. "Wait a second, Colonel Mustang."

The lieutenant gave him a salute he couldn't see. "Please try and hurry back. You still have paperwork back at Headquarters that needs to be finished." The slightest tremble to her words said everything else.

_Come back. You have to. You cannot vanish like this, not right now…you have to come back, Colonel. Please. I have to keep you safe._

Roy tried to keep going. Really, he did. But his feet turned around of their own accord and before he knew it, he was standing in front of her again, shoving the rarely-used gun he usually wore at his side and forgot about into her hands. She stared at it and blinked.

"S-Sir…?"

"You know how it is, Hawkeye," Mustang said, rolling his eyes in mock-aggravation. '"All army personnel have to carry their issued fire-arm', even the alchemists. A waste of a gun, if you ask me. When was the last time I _used_ the damn thing? It's only gonna get in the way, so…so hold on to it for me until I get back, ok?"

He paused. "And, uh…command's a bitch if you loose your damn gun, so just…just be careful with it until I come back." He smiled and began, once again, to walk away.

Riza's heart was thumping so wildly in her chest she couldn't breathe properly. In his own, awkward way, Roy had promised her he'd…

She stared down at the gun in her hands, its parts shiny…unused. It was too clean to have ever been fired much; although Riza took excellent care of her weapons, the dirt and gunpowder never completely washed away. But Roy's was still in perfect condition…

She swallowed. Her stomach twisted in a way it never had before. There was a great pressure crushing down on her lungs, a huge rock settling in on her windpipe…

She was suddenly certain she would never see Roy again.

"Colonel!"

He paused for just a second…she saw his shoulders jerk slightly…then he turned the corner…and was gone.

* * *

EDIT August ?, 2008: Funniest thing about not having summer classes is that you have no real reason to remember what the date is...Am actually sort of satisfied with how this chapter reads now. Imagine that.


	15. Chapter 14

AN- **Guest, Unexpectation, and tracycoder-** you all reveiwed begging me to either not kill roy/riza, and/or have a happy ending. to that i say...uhm...well...ah heh heh heh, i promise that by next chapter you'll have your answer.

Hello! a seven-page chapter--it's a bit of a break from those 14 pagers! i'm sooo glad i decided to post this story-- the positive feedback is a HUGE push to keep working on this story. i'm picturing about 5 more chapters--tho i really dont want to end this! lol:sigh:...

o, and as for the title of this chapter, it means that both roy and riza are being faced with a truth they dont want to accept. (cant tell ya what, tho, heh heh)**

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**disclaimer-** i dont own fma or the characters. i'm not that lucky. but i can make riza and roy fall in love anyway! bwahahahahahahaha!

**Cold Actuality **

It was, Roy thought, like something straight out of a crappy, grade-b horror flick. The nonstop rain had let up for the most part, but a thick, grey fog had settled over the city in its place. It might have been early morning, but it was as dark as late evening. Apparently, the sun had been banned from Central. The abandoned prison now rising into the air in front of Roy was easily the ugliest, most decrepit-looking building he'd ever seen, and that included Lab 5. It was a big, hulking monstrosity, made out of bricks that at one point or another could have been called red. Years of smog and city grime had settled on them, however, and now the bricks were a uniform black. Every one of the windows was broken, the prison bars behind them either missing completely, or so rusted as to be useless. Shards of glass littered the ground, sparkling where the light from the street lamps hit them. From the right angle, they almost looked like diamonds.

Roy looked up at the dismal building and frowned. There was a high wall stretching all around it, with yards of barbed wire wound tightly around at the top. The only entrance seemed to be at the far end of a small courtyard in front of him, but Roy's years of experience told him this was hardly an ideal way to get in. The courtyard was surrounded by other buildings-all abandoned, from the looks of it- and the fog was easily thick enough to cover any snipers that might be lurking. With Bradley, one never knew what tricks he might have up his sleeve.

"Think I'll make my own way in, thanks," he smirked to himself. With a snap of his fingers, a section of the old wall crumbled in flames. He waited a second or two, to let the fire die down a bit, and then stepped neatly over the smoldering ashes. Being able to control fire definitely had its advantages.

It wasn't hard to get inside the building itself, considering- he had his choice of broken windows to choose from. Once in, he paused to get his bearings. He was standing at the start of a long hallway. The only light came in through tiny windows-more like air vents, really- and there wasn't any sun outside as it was, so it was hard to see very far. There was so much dust floating around in the air, it was almost suffocating.

Not seeing any other choice, Roy headed cautiously down the hallway. There were a few doors branching off, most of them closed and lopsided on their hinges. When he pushed one open experimentally, it gave way with such a high-pitched shriek he jumped. Oops…oh well, there was definitely no hidden laboratory behind any of these doors.

Then he passed a stairway, and instantly he stopped in his tracks. Mounted to the wall above the stairwell were small candles- all of which were lighted and flickering, their thin beams of light struggling to cut through the musty air.

"…Guess I'm not the first one to stop by today," he mused. The stairs groaned under his weight, and he cursed silently. Why not just announce his presence to the whole damn world while he was at it?

The stairs went down, farther and farther…Roy couldn't even imagine how far below the ground he was right now. No wonder the place smelled like dirt- half of it was under the earth as it was. He kept going…

Every now and then, he headed the indignant _squeak_ of a rat startled out of its hiding place. Spider webs hung crazily from the ceiling, one of which was so large that Roy couldn't avoid walking into it. Grumbling angrily, he swatted at the sticky threads, but made the mistake of leaning against the worn wooden handrail. A _crack,_ and a whole section gave way underneath him. He flailed wildly for a minute, and even after he regained his balance, his heart was still pounding. Had anyone else heard that?...No…it seemed he'd gotten lucky, for once.

It was getting darker and darker, despite the candles. Finally, Roy slid one out of its holder, and with a snap, gave it a little 'boost'. Holding his glorified torch in front of him, he reached the end of the stairs-finally!-and stepped onto cold, hard stone. It looked like there was another long hallway in front of him….but instead of broken windows and rusted doors, this one had only one way out- a steel door tightly padlocked at the very far end. Light poured out from under it, and occasionally the shadow of someone walking past inside flickered out too. Roy's pulse quickened.

_Bradley. _

Roy inched his way closer. He knew that he should probably be feeling at least a little scared right now, but his adrenalin was pumping too hard for that. It was finally happening….after years of planning, years of waiting, years of scheming and pulling strings, the day was finally here. The day when Roy Mustang faced King Bradley. Whether he won or lost this fight, whether he lived or died, the fact remained that this was the final, irreversible event that would decide just where Roy's future went from here.

"_Please try and hurry back, Colonel."_

Roy gritted his teeth. Why was he still thinking about her, even _now_? Even in a situation like _this!_? He inhaled deeply, and blew it out, slowly, his eyes closed. He had to keep it together if he was gonna pull this off. He couldn't let thoughts of anyone-thoughts of _her_-get in the way.

_She is just your subordinate, _he told himself sternly. _For right now, she is just your subordinate. Maybe later that will change, but for right now, you can't worry about her. Focus on yourself. Focus on beating Bradley. Leave Riza out of this._

He dropped his torch- he didn't need it anymore. His heart was starting to race again, his throat was tightening. Ok…so _now_ his nerves were kicking in. Wonderful.

The door loomed right in front of him. His gloved hand gripped the padlock; in a second, it lay at his feet in a useless melted metal blob. One last vision of Riza crossed his mind…

He opened the door.

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Riza stood stiffly, under the dim glow of a streetlight. Her eyes were fixed firmly on her watch, watching as the arrows dragged themselves along. Roy had been gone about seven minutes…only thirteen more until she could go after him. 

It would be, she knew, the longest thirteen minutes of her life.

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Roy's eyes adjusted quickly to the light, but not as quickly to what it was he was seeing. The room he now stood in was a large one, made of stone from ceiling to floor. Besides a few clear containers filled with god only knows what, the room was empty. Well….almost empty.

"Ah, Colonel Mustang. I was wondering when you'd choose to arrive." King Bradley sounded as calm and unruffled as ever. He did not seem at all shocked to see Roy there. "I apologize if the lab is not as busy as it usually is, but I had the more important artifacts removed so as not to hamper us. They're in the next room."

Roy clenched his fists. So much for a surprise attack. "You…knew?"

Bradley shook his head. "Of course I did. Tsk tsk, Colonel, I didn't think that would come as a surprise to you."

"How?"

"Now, now, a magician never reveals his secrets."

"Well, if you knew so much, why not just kill me in the first place," Roy growled.

Bradley smiled slightly. "Several reasons, actually. For one, I need you alive. But, in all honestly, the real reason is that I was looking forward to having a good fight with you, Colonel. After all, you're a famous alchemist. I've always been very intrested in you."

Oh, Roy knew that, all right. There had been a time, not so long ago, when Roy had respected, looked up to, even _admired_ the president…

He smirked. "So, if you need me alive, how do you plan on fighting me, _sir_?"

Bradley sighed. "I should rephrase that. I would _like_ you alive. But, if worse comes to worse, I can always find someone else. Famous or not famous, a war hero or not a war hero…" His voice went cold. "You are very replaceable, Colonel Mustang."

Roy glared. "Is that so?"

"Oh yes," Bradley nodded. "But, don't misunderstand me. All humans are replaceable. It really is a shame with you, though. I've had my eye on you for the longest time. For a while, you seemed like such a good soldier…ambitious, strong, followed all your orders. I really did think that you would be an excellent right-hand man one day. But then, you had to get too far ahead of yourself, and cook up a cocky little plan to overthrow me." Again, his voice became ice. "You forgot your place."

"Forgive me," Roy spat, "if I had some doubts about mindlessly obeying a mad man!"

"Please, Colonel, don't waste either of our times," Bradley said coolly. "Mindlessly obeying your superiors comes with the territory; you knew when you first joined the military that you'd spent the rest of your life bowing down to someone else."

"Yeah, but there's a difference between obeying your superiors, and obeying a homunculus!"

Bradley's tone became derisive. "Really, Colonel, what _is_ the difference? Just because the leader of this country was created instead of given birth to…I look human, don't I?"

"It's not enough to just _look_ human, homunculus."

"Oh yes," Bradley scorned, "because you would know _so_ much about that. I seem to remember that you shot to fame during the Ishbal Rebellion, yes? You moved quite quickly up the ranks- how did that happen, again? Last time I checked, they don't give field promotions for being a saint on the front lines."

Roy's fists clenched again. But there was nothing he could do to keep Bradley from ripping wide open his barely-closed wounds.

"Don't fool yourself, Mustang, you got those promotions because you killed more people then the average soldier. You got those promotions because you were a more perfect killing machine then the rest." He smiled cruelly at the expression on Roy's face. "You think I don't know? I was a common soldier once too, just like you. Like you, I killed well enough to get promotion after promotion. Like I said, you and I are so very much alike…I was even considering you as my 'successor to the throne', as it were."

"Thanks for the consideration, but you're wrong!" Roy shouted. "You and I are nothing alike!"

"Of course we are! We're both murderers, aren't we? We've both taken life 'for the state'. You're just as power-hungry as I am, that's why you're doing this. All those fancy ideals of yours, those kind-hearted and righteous slogans you storm around ranting about, you don't really believe in them. You're like all humans, full of big words but no meaning. It's fine to rage about being moral and 'doing the right thing', but I don't remember you resisting too hard when they sent you to Ishbal. No, Colonel, don't lie to me. You're not trying to be a better leader. You just couldn't wait your turn to be the man pulling all the strings!"

"…You're right," Roy said quietly. "I _didn't_ complain when I was sent to Ishbal. And humans _are_ full of shit. But if you think we're alike….if you think I'm going to be just like you…well, go ahead and think that if you want. But it's _not_ the truth."

"Oh, isn't it? Then tell me…what do you plan on doing if you usurp me and take my position? Force everyone to get along? Welcome the remnants of the Ishbalan race with open arms? Hmph….make sure they don't shoot you while you're trying. Honestly, Colonel Mustang..." His words were vicious and unrelenting. "What is it you expect will happen? You murdered their people, don't think they'll forget that so easily. You're trying to tell me that you don't want power for selfish reasons? Hah! You want the world to be perfect so that you can live with yourself. But I have news for you, Colonel…" he sneered, "The world isn't perfect. It never will be. And you'll never be able to drown your sorrows or your guilt." He smirked. "And you'll never deserve her."

"You're wrong! I'm not….I won't…._You don't know shit about it!" _And with that, Roy snapped. He lunged for the president, blind with fury. "_You don't know shit about me!"_

He swung a wild punch at the homunculus. Even as befuddled by anger as he was, it was a good punch, smooth and powerful from years of training. It should have landed easily…

It didn't.

The president stood still, acting as if he was just going to let Roy's fist collide with his jaw, until the very last second, when he…vanished. Or rather, when he jumped away with such speed, with such awesome and unbelievable power, that the human eye failed to catch him again until he had landed. Until he had landed neatly behind Roy, and sent him smashing into the wall with a punch to the back of the head so crushing it felt like a bullet had been pumped into the back of his skull.

"Unngh…!" Roy struggled to keep his footing as he pried himself off the wall. He turned on wobbling legs to the president.

"Very nice." Bradley nodded approvingly. "You really are the pride of the military's training. Your head didn't crack the slightest bit. Such a shame you decided to be difficult….I hate the idea of wasting one of the best candidates for presidency this country has ever seen, but since you insist on being rebellious…we can't have a president who won't listen to reason."

"R-Reason…?" Roy's head was throbbing fiercely. That punch…not only had it been a solid, powerful one, but the way Bradley threw it…it was almost as if the man had known all along that Roy was planning on attacking him exactly when he did. Which was, of course, impossible…wasn't it?

Bradley's eyes-or rather, _eye,_ since the other one was hidden beneath a black eye patch- were gleaming. "In a few years, you could have been trained to be my equal. If you hadn't been so impatient, you could have had everything you've ever wanted, Mustang."

Everything? No…no, that wasn't true. He wouldn't have had respite from his nightmares…he wouldn't have had that long-sought after- and oh-so-rare- peace of mind that he could dimly remember taking for granted before the war…he wouldn't have had Riza…(not that he had her _now_, but still.) No, the one thing Roy was sure of was that he could never be happy as the president's lap dog, and he said as much, spitting the words out with as much venom as he could muster. Bradley laughed delightedly.

"You see? You're even as stubborn as I am! You and I really are alike."

"You…keep saying that, but that doesn't…make it true!"

The homunculus frowned. "One thing I will never understand about you humans is how you can look something in the face and not see it. Humans are weak and pathetic and will cave under about nearly anything if pressed long enough….and yet, they simply refuse to see what they don't want to see. This self-induced blindness boggles the mind."

"Oh…yeah?" Roy smirked. "Well, if you hate humans so much, then tell me- why's your closest slave a human?"

"…I'm afraid I haven't the faintest clue as to whom you're referring to…"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Roy snorted. "Don't you remember your own pets? Juliet Douglas, the pretty little secretary…I've seen her running around handling _your_ dirty work. Why do you put so much trust in her if you think humans are so pathetic? Aren't there any other homunculi around that are as good-looking as she it?" He grinned. "Maybe you just like staring at a human girl's ass all day long."

President Bradley raised an eyebrow. "Please pardon my ignorance, but who ever said Ms. Douglas was human?"

_

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Eleven…ten… _

Riza gritted her teeth against her ill-concealed impatience. Only ten more minutes to go….except…could she wait, really _wait_, for ten more minutes? Roy was fighting, even now, she assumed- even now, while she stood around and _waited_.

She eyed her watch yet again. Was it possible that it was broken? Surely time didn't crawl _this_ slowly…

Riza wasn't sure what was happening to her anymore. She'd never had trouble obeying orders like this before- sure, there were times when she disagreed, but her self-control was such that she was always able to keep her opinions to herself. She knew her place, all right…or at least…she used to. She didn't know _what_ the heck she knew these days, except for one thing. There was one thing she _was_ sure of, and that was that if something happened to Roy while she stood around and cooled her heels, she would never forgive herself. Never.

Nine minutes to go….she didn't think she'd be able to last for nine minutes, self-control or no self-control. She was so stressed, that she was actually considering just going after Roy right then and there. Chances were he wouldn't get thaat mad, and even if he did, it was worth a court-martial—hell, it was worth facing a firing squad—to keep him safe. Maybe she should just leave right now…

And that's when it hit her. It would take her a good five or six minutes to reach the prison from where she was, not to mention the precious time she'd need to actually find him once inside. So, if she was going to be there in exactly twenty minutes, like she'd promised, shouldn't she leave now?

Hmm…Riza considered this carefully and decided it made perfect sense. Heh….thank god for loopholes.

With that, she took off at a fast walk- ok, so it was more like a jog- down the street. Her heart was racing, her nerves strained to the max. Though, as always, she hid it well, her serene façade had started to snap neatly in two.

But it was ok, because she was coming, and she would protect him like she'd promised. Yes, she understood that he was a great fighter, and that he didn't always need her help, but…she just_ knew_ she had to be there this time. It was just one of those feelings, the kind that crawls up your spine and latches on tight. The kind that tells you something you might not want to hear, but that won't shut up, regardless of what you do. And this time, the feeling was telling her to get her ass into that prison and find Roy.

She turned the corner, speeding up as she went. Her mind was so filled with thoughts of Roy, of how he was doing and if she would be too late, that it took her a minute to realize she was no longer alone on the street.

"Going somewhere?"

Riza's head snapped up, and she stared at the young woman with long brown hair, a slender figure, and an expression so devoid of any emotion it was completely empty. And her eyes…her eyes were so…_dead_…it was hard to imagine this woman was _human_.

But, it wasn't like she was a stranger- Riza instantly recognized her as Juliet Douglas, the president's secretary. Why was _she_ here? Even if she was mixed up with the homunculi- how could she not be? - it wasn't like she could fight or anything. She didn't even have a gun.

Whatever- Riza didn't have time to worry about this now.

"Ms. Douglas," she said coolly, making sure to keep her surprise off her face, "I was not expecting to find you here."

"Mmm…I was told to find you, and I had a feeling this was where you'd be."

"I see…" Riza was too caught up with her worry about Roy to notice how _strange_ that sentence was. "I'm sorry for being rude, but I'm afraid I must be going…"

"Ah, yes." Douglas nodded. A small smile appeared on her face, but it didn't even begin to break the ice in her eyes. "I've already been informed of that."

Riza furrowed her brows in confusion. What was going _on_? Douglas was acting like she knew everything, but that wasn't possible...Roy's plan couldn't have leaked out, she was sure of it…

"…" She shook her head. She didn't have _time_ for this! "I have to go now, so if there was something you needed me for, it will have to wait—"

"You cannot go any further, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

_…What…?_

Riza blinked. "E-Excuse me…?"

The other woman smiled frigidly again. "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to go any further."

Riza felt hot impatience stirring up inside her. She had to force herself to keep from shooting at the woman. Roy _needed_ her! Whatever Douglas was up to, whatever tricks she was trying to pull, they'd have to _wait!_

"I'm sorry," she said as calmly as she could manage, "but I don't understand—"

"I've been ordered to keep you from coming any closer to the old prison. You cannot go any further, Lieutenant. That order comes straight from President Bradley, who, as I'm sure you're well aware, is ranked far higher then a _colonel_." She smiled—cruelly. "Roy Mustang will understand. After all, he could not expect you to disobey orders straight from the top."

Forget impatient…what Riza was feeling was waay past impatient by now. It was more like pissed off…_extremely_ pissed off.

"Kindly step aside," she said through clenched teeth. "I already promised Colonel Mustang I'd assist him, and I intend to keep that promise."

Douglas looked fairly surprised. "I was not under the impression, Lieutenant, that you were the type to disobey orders." Riza didn't say anything. Douglas's cold smile became an even colder smirk, but her eyes remained vacant. "You do realize that you're risking serious consequences if you insist on being disobedient…"

Riza started walking again, towards the prison, and towards Roy. Her voice was even, quiet, and resigned. "…I'm willing to be court-martialed for this."

"I'm not talking…about a court martial."

Riza froze in her tracks. Slowly, she turned to look in disbelief at the woman with the icy smirk and the frozen eyes standing behind her. It wasn't possible…there was no way it could be possible…and yet, Riza knew she'd heard that woman threaten like that before, calmly and in an almost friendly tone of voice, like she was warning you for your own good, when really she was the one pulling the trigger. But that was impossible…the only times she'd ever seen Juliet Douglas were when she was with the president, and she never said anything when she was around him. She just trailed behind him silently, with her eyes on the ground, like a well-oiled machine, a robot that listened and fulfilled all its master's commands without the ability to think twice. No, it was not possible that she would have had the chance to menace someone else in such an eager manner. (She sounded almost _hopeful,_ like she was hoping Riza would continue to resist so that she could carry out the consequences.) But Riza was so sure she'd heard that woman threaten before…

"_I suggest you find her…it isn't your choice any longer, Greed…if you insist on being difficult…"_

Riza's heart began to pound. Juliet noticed her stare and smiled again, seemingly flattered by this sudden show of disbelief.

_Greed called whoever he was arguing with 'Sloth'…he was arguing with **her**, I'm sure of it…but…Sloth is…is a homunculus name…_

Almost unwillingly, she looked into Juliet's eyes. Juliet's smile grew. The truth stared unflinchingly from her eyes until Riza could no longer ignore it, no longer have any doubts…

_Juliet Douglas…is a homunculus._

"As I just informed you," Sloth said calmly, "You cannot go any further, Lieutenant Hawkeye. That…is an order."

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AN- in case it was too vague, roy was being hit with the relization that he, at least in some ways, is a lot like Pride. 'cause, if you think about it, its true. they both are very driven, both VERY set on their goals (tho being behind as i am i'm not sure what Pride's are, yet ;;) and they both even wear an eyepatch! (lol, at least towards the end...). as for riza, her relization is more obvious- sloth's a homunculi! whee, yay irony! XD 

oh, i've another question- does anyone know, by chance, what pride's powers are? i'm having thruble with that...lol.


	16. Chapter 15

AN- **tracycoder-** i would LOVE to keep working and working on this story, and never ending, but if i did the quality would do a nose-dive once my ideas ran out. plus, once you read the next few chapters/ending, you'll understad why it would be rather impossible for me to keep going past where my last chapter goes. ...oops...did i give too much away right there? keh heh heh

**peophin-chan-** kyaa, such determination:bows: thanks a billion for the review!

**floOfymikO- **wait and seeee...heh, like i said above, there IS a reason why i wouldnt be able to keep going besides the fact that the quality would suck. :laughs evily: grr, NO ONE seems to know what Pride does! he's so...grrr, he's annoying. and i dont even know what he does to BE annoying with:sigh: well, i did assume he could see in the future-hence the creepy eye thing he's got going on- so i'll just make it up as i go along, XD

WELL, hello again. i'm warnin ya right now, Sloth 'n Pride might be a bit OOC. hopefully not too badly. had absolutly no spare time, so i only did a very quick once-over in terms of spelling. if you see any mistakes, kindly ignore 'em, heh. XD

here's hoping you guys enjoy cliff-hangers!**

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**disclaimer- **yada yada, dont own fma, blah blah blah, so no suing me, so on and so forth.

**Reasons**

_Damn it!_

Roy cursed and wiped the corner of his mouth. The back of his hand came away smeared with blood. Bradley raised an eyebrow.

"Tiring already? Come now, Colonel, that was just one punch. I thought you were known for being a talented fighter…"

_One punch? _The Flame Alchemist snorted- yeah, that was a good one. It was more like a grenade going off next to his jaw. He hadn't been able to block it, even slightly, because in all honesty, he hadn't seen it coming. It was the stupid mistake of an untrained recruit, one he hadn't made in years. After all, that was one of the first rules a soldier learned when he joined the military- always keep your eyes on your opponents, and never let them catch you off-guard. Roy'd learned that lesson well—or so he thought…you'd never be able to tell from that last little encounter! Barely before he had time to blink, Bradley was _there,_ in front of him, fist swinging. The force of the blow had been enough to send Roy reeling back, gasping. The president was so damn_ fast_…not only that, but Roy got the infuriating sense that, as strong as that punch had been, Bradley hadn't even been _trying_. Something in the homunculus's demeanor suggested that it had been more of a 'test-punch', just to see what Roy's limits were, and to screw around with him a bit. It was the punch of a man who smiled condescendingly as he fought, not using his full strength or worrying whatsoever. It was the punch of a man who would say-kindly, of course-, _'no need to worry, I'm not going to kill you,'_, and then watch gleefully as the person opposite him grew even angrier, because they both knew what he really meant. They both knew that what he really meant was that he wasn't going to bother to kill the person, because they weren't any kind of threat, any cause for concern…they were useless, pathetic, and Bradley wouldn't even waste his time. Which only pissed Roy off more, because there was nothing he hated more then someone who was so sure they were the greatest that they didn't feel the need to try. (Yes, he'd been guilty of that many times before himself, but hey- who said he didn't hate himself?)

"I must admit I'm disappointed," the president was saying now, smugly. "From what I've heard, I expected you to put up a better fight, Colonel Mustang."

"Gee, sorry for disappointing you," Roy answered though clenched teeth. His eyes searched urgently for any small sign or giveaway that might help pinpoint the location of Bradley's stone. But there was nothing…

"Why don't you try using your alchemy?" Bradley suggested 'helpfully'. "After all, it did help you quite a bit back in Ishbal, didn't it?"

"Yeah…back in Ishbal…" Roy hissed. "Back in that goddamn bloodbath _you_ started!

"How exactly did I do that?" was the cold reply. Roy snickered cynically.

"Heh, you think I don't know? You, and the rest of your homunculi friends-you _intentionally_ picked a fight with the Ishbalans, just so you could have an excuse to get rid of them!"

"Is that so?" Bradley frowned, harshly. "If that is what you think, then you know very little, Colonel."

"Oh really, well, then how about you _enlighten_ me!"

"Yes, it's true, the war was started intentionally, by me. But I didn't do so on a whim- oh, no, believe me, Colonel, I had my reasons."

Roy's eyes widened slightly. "Wha-at…?"

"Come now, Colonel Mustang," Bradley snorted derisively. "Use your head, for a change. Why would I, the president of the strongest nation on earth, bother with starting a controversial war, unless I had a good reason? You don't honestly believe all that garbage they fed you back there, about how the Ishbalans were 'threatening the security of the country', do you?"

Roy slowly shook his head- he never _had_ trusted a word of that, but at the same time, he couldn't figure out why the higher-ups would waste so much money and so many men on a pointless conflict that made the members of the military look like demons…

"The Ishbalans didn't serve as any sort of threat, and they never will. How could they? Their religion forbids them from using alchemy, a science that in their eyes 'bastardizes the world Ishbala gave to them'. I believe that's the load of nonsense they enjoy spewing at everyone else, yes?" He laughed, cruelly. "And they wonder why their lives are so wretched? What do they expect? Those few survivors rotting away in refugee camps, or living in squalor and fear as they hide from the military's final justice…what were they thinking? Refusing alchemy, refusing God's great gift to his wayward children…although," he chuckled again, "I'm not exactly one for religion. The Ishbalans are such fools."

"No…they're not," Roy argued, breathing hard.

"How can you say they're not, look at how many of them have died because of their stubbornness!"

"They died because they were better people then…" He stopped, sensing how futile an argument it was. Bradley smirked again.

"Idiot boy…haven't you realized by now that being a 'good person' doesn't count for anything in this world? Life isn't about being a _good person_, it's about climbing your way to the top, and screw whoever you have to step on to get there." He shook his head. "But I digress. What were we discussing again? Ah, yes, I was explaining to you why I started the Ishbalan Rebellion. 'Rebellion'…heh, what a joke. Those pathetic souls never realized that they were playing right into my hands the entire time."

Roy glared at him. "Hundreds of thousands of soldiers died fighting them, and you're saying you had everything _under control_!"

"Of course. Those men were all just simply cannon fodder."

"_Cannon fodder!_? They were _fighting_—"

"I already told you, humans are expendable. Besides, the whole point of stirring up that little war was for the dead bodies it would produce!" The man-the monster- laughed, his eyes glimmering in the dim candlelight. Roy stared at him in hopeless disbelief. "That's right, Mustang. That's why the war was started, why we purposely made it so that we would look like the villains. Why soldiers were ordered to attack unarmed villages, why the rising body counts on both sides never stopped anyone, why it was always considered a good thing when other tribes would join sides with the Ishbalans in their righteous rage. This war was started…because we needed the bodies."

"W-What…what could you possibly…?"

"You've heard of the Philosopher's Stone, haven't you?"

"The Philosoph-…." Roy snapped his fingers. Flames shot out at the president, who ducked, quite smoothly, as if he'd been expecting it. (Which was impossible, because it had been a rash action born out of anger, something Roy hadn't known himself he was going to do a microsecond before he did it. Perhaps the homunculus had simply figured that the Flame Alchemist would snap sooner or later.) But, whatever- the fire hit the wall instead, and singed the stones to black.

"Now, Colonel," Bradley said calmly, "was that quite nessisar—"

"Shut up!" Roy's face was contorted in fury, his breath coming out of him in angry little gasps. "Shut up! The Philosopher's Stone….you need humans to create it, right?"

Bradley nodded, apparently pleased that he'd figured it out so quickly. "Of course. To create the stone itself, they must be alive, but in terms of test subjects, dead humans make just as good a lab rat as anything else."

"You bastard! You killed thousands of innocent people just for your goddamn _experiments_! What about the soldiers from the military that were killed, did you use them too?"

"You seem to be getting rather excited, Colonel Mustang," the president observed coolly. "May I remind you that _you_ are the one who is known in the military as being extremely driven and ambitious? There have been rumors floating around for months that you would do anything to claw your way up the ladder, and something tells me you would be the last to deny them."

"I wouldn't start a damn_ war_ just for—"

"Ah, yes, I forgot, you're so much better then I. Heh….forgive me for laughing," he said icily, "but I'm sure if push came to shove you'd be able to justify it in the end. It'd be an excellent way to pick up girls, something I'm told you're rather taken with. One thing I can't seem to figure out about you, Mustang…" and here he smirked, "if you _love_ those Ishbalans so much…then why exactly did you _murder_ them?"

Roy lunged at him again, fists flying. He swung at the president again and again, the two of them 'dancing' all over the room. Roy's fists moved in a rush, too fast to be seen as more then a blur. He was obviously the one on the offensive…too bad no one had bothered to tell Bradley that. Even thought Roy was almost as good in a fist-fight as he was in an alchemy battle, he couldn't lay a finger on the homunculus. And it wasn't just because the guy was fast-he was, but there was more to it…something in his movements, in the way he dodged Roy's assault, didn't seem…..right. He was too fluid, too laid-back, too….planned-out.

"Dammit," Roy growled, as another one of his punches struck at nothing but air, _this isn't working!_ Deciding to switch tactics, he deliberately aimed for nothing. With Bradley ducked, Roy quickly brought his other hand up and snapped his fingers. A wave of flames exploded right in the homunculus's face. Roy smirked as the other fell back, smoke shielding him from view. Considering the healing powers homunculi had, he highly doubted that attack had done much, but even if it just bought him some time, it still worked out in his favor. He needed every second he could get to try and figure out where Bradley's stone was implanted. From what he'd read, the location of the stone was always right beneath the oriborus tattoo, but he couldn't seem to _find_ Bradley's tattoo to begin with!

Finally, the smoke cleared a bit. Roy looked eagerly, hoping--though he knew the chances were pretty hope_less_—that he'd see a glimmer of red before the president had a chance to heal himself up. Instead, his jaw dropped. Bradley hadn't been so much as _singed_! He had a katana out (one of the several swords he always had strapped to his back like some wanna-be ninja) and was holding it in front of him. Steam was still rising from the metal- it appeared that he'd used the weapon to divert the flames away from his face. Which, in itself, wasn't so surprising- it was a pretty well-known talent a lot of swordsmen had, and Bradley was obviously one of the best. What struck Roy as odd—hell, as fricken _weird_--was that he'd managed to take his sword out at all. Sure, a swordfighter could whip his out in the blink of an eye, but to have time both to duck, _and_ to _use_ it? It just didn't seem _possible_.

Roy's mind raced. Maybe…well….if he hadn't bothered to duck, he might have been able to get his katana up fast enough, but come _on_…it was a body's natural reflex to duck, that'd been the whole point of the fake-punch in the first place! The only way _that_ scenario could work was if homunculi didn't have the same goddamn _reflexives_ as humans, which was unlikely…although Roy wasn't ruling anything out at this point!

"Hmm…" Bradley lowered his weapon, eyeing Roy with interest. "That wasn't bad, Colonel. A clever maneuver. Might have done some real damage if I hadn't known it was coming."

"What do you mean, 'known it was coming'! You couldn't have—"

"Or, maybe I give you too much credit," Bradley continued as if he hadn't heard Roy, "In fact, I'm quite sure that I do. After all, if you really did have any brains in that stubborn little head of yours, you'd have known better then to challenge me in the first place. You'd have realized that no one can defeat me. Even among the other homunculi, I am the strongest."

Roy forced a smirk. "Cocky bastard, aren't you?"

"Heh…I believe the saying is, 'takes one to know one'?" The president chuckled. "Besides, it _is_ in the name."

"…So…" Roy said slowly, "You're Pride?"

"You've heard of me? Why, Colonel, I'm flattered."

"Yeah, well, your friend Greed apparently mentioned you…as he was _attacking_ my first lieutenant!"

"Ah, yes, _Greed_…" Pride's face wrinkled like he'd bitten into something sour. "I had my doubts about using him for that mission. It was my secretary's idea to involve him-she's been wanting some way to keep him under control for a while now, and she thought that if she could get him embroiled in this whole thing, he'd have no choice but to follow along. Unfortunately, she forgot how _idiotic_ that man is…heh, or should I say, _was_."

Roy ignored the last comment. He really couldn't care less about Greed at this point. "You should talk, you son of a bitch. After all, deciding to go after Lieutenant Hawkeye wasn't a very smart idea on your part."

"You don't think so?" Pride, seeing his opportunity, slowly shook his head. "Oh, but I disagree. I think it worked wonders. After all, it served its objective-it upset you, didn't it? Although, I must admit that I was rather loath to agree to it, at first…after all, that girl _is_ a good soldier, and very pretty besides." His tone stayed nice and casual, like he was discussing the weather instead of slicing at Roy's biggest weakness. But there was an edge to his voice now…his eyes met and drilled into Roy's...he smiled.

"After I've taken care of you, I think I'll pay her a visit, see if the two of us can't become…'better acquainted'."

Afterwards, it was said that the room became so filled with alchemically-created flames, it rivaled for a moment the Devil's domain.

* * *

The wind began to pick up- a sure sign of a storm approaching. The sky had reverted back to its typical charcoal grey. Dirt blew down the street, bits of grit that stung the eyes. Riza wouldn't allow herself to blink, though. Her eyes remained fixed on Sloth, who hadn't moved. She still stood there, in front of Riza, smirking ever-so-slightly. 

Another gust tugged at Riza's hair, trying to pull it loose. She ignored that too. She glanced quickly down at her watch, and discovered that another five minutes had gone by. She had only four left if she was going to keep her promise….

Well, enough was enough. Riza's mind was made up. She reached down and pulled out her gun. She paused for only a second, staring at the gleaming weapon. Only a second, as her mind, used to obeying her superiors, adjusted to the fact that she would now be _shooting_ at one. Much to her surprise, she found that it was not nearly as hard an idea to get used to as she had assumed.

Her heart wasn't racing, her stomach wasn't twisting, her thoughts as she gripped the metal were controlled and steady. She felt calm. Too calm, maybe. Without waiting any longer, she leveled the gun…and aimed it at Sloth.

"Move."

Sloth chuckled softly. She seemed delighted at having a gun pointed at her face.

"I'd think twice, Lieutenant. You know what the penalties for assaulting a higher-ranked officer are, don't you?"

Yes, Riza knew. She knew what would happen if things didn't go well today. She'd find _herself_ staring down the barrel of a gun…of several guns, actually, as many as made up a firing squad. She knew….and she didn't care. Roy needed her. She had never once, in her entire life, acted impulsively…for once, to help the colonel, she was willing to head in eyes closed and gun drawn, if that's what it took. The thought of any punishments that might come her way later as a result were only distant dots on the horizon. Her grip on the gun didn't falter.

"Move. I need to get past."

"I see…how admirable…" Sloth eyed her. "You really would risk life and limb for the Flame Alchemist."

Riza clicked off the safety. "_Move._"

"I suppose the best question….would be _why_. Why _are_ you so determined to protect him?"

Why? Riza blinked. _Why_…? ….What did Sloth mean, _why_? She had to protect him, because…because he…he was her colonel. She couldn't just let him get hurt. She _wanted_ to help him….but why? Well, because she loved him—she'd certainly had her faire share of grief swallowing _that_ bitter pill, but she'd swallowed it none the less. That was why she had to protect him, of course, because she loved him.

…….

But why?

Why did she love Roy Mustang? He was cocky, he was full of himself, he was headstrong and stubborn and reckless and not a little perverted, when you got down to it. He was selfish, he abused alcohol a little too often for her taste, he never focused on his work, hell, he took _naps_ instead of filling out forms like he was supposed to…he was, in short, the exact _opposite_ of whatever image she'd had of 'The One" as a girl. He managed to push all her buttons without even trying, and he alternately either frustrated her to no end, pissed her off, or an oddly annoying combination of both. Plus, at the same time, he managed to make her feel _completely_ unlike herself, just by _looking_ at her! Just by looking at her, her focus died and her clear-headedness went out the window. He brought out a side of her she couldn't_ stand_! A weaker side, a more vulnerable side…he was the kind of man she _hated_! And she would have hated him, too…

If only she didn't love him so damn much.

_Why do I love him? Why…_

She slowly looked up at Sloth, who stood smirking and waiting for an answer.

"Why…?"

"Yes. Why are you so obsessed with being his shadow, his _bodyguard_?" Her lips curled in contempt at the word. What foolish, emotional _children_ these humans were.

"…" Riza looked down again at the gun in her hands. It wasn't hers, she realized now—it was Roy's. She looked at the gun, and thought of Roy, and of her life as his first lieutenant, and of the first time she'd ever seen him, so many years ago, when she'd wondered what kind of a man he could possibly be…

"_I'll always protect you. I promise."_

"You want to know why I follow Roy Mustang…"

"_I promise..."_

"In all honesty…" She aimed the gun at Sloth again, determinedly. "…I really don't know."

And she pulled the trigger.

* * *

_Where is he…?_

Roy took a step into the wall of black smoke engulfing the center of the room. It was impossible to see much of anything, but at least the smoke was beginning to fade a bit. Eyes narrowed, he glared as he looked around for Pride. His fists trembled at the thought of what he would do to that bastard once he caught him.

_I'm going….to kill him…_

Behind him, Pride stepped quietly out from the poisonous grey curtain. Slowly, he raised his sword again.

* * *

The bullet hit Sloth right in the center of her forehead, and her eyes widened in shock as the force spun her around and sent her crashing into the wall behind her. Her body lay slumped where it fell. Riza had to admit she was surprised…she hadn't been expecting one bullet to do so much to a homunculus. Still, she wasn't about to start complaining- she stepped over Sloth's prostrate figure and hurried down the street. As long as the homunculus stayed down, even if it was only for a few minutes, it would give Riza enough time to put some distance between them… 

"Lieutenant. Kindly stop where you are."

Riza whirled back around, and her eyes widened slightly. Not only was Sloth up, but there was no sign of blood anywhere. Even homunculi bled as they healed themselves…not to mention, there had been no telltale flash of light to suggest she'd healed herself at all. It was as if she'd never been hit in the first place...as if she had simply been acting. The realization hit her hard. It made no sense- Riza _saw_ the bullet go through her head! - but she was suddenly sure it was true.

_Two minutes left…_

_I don't have time!_

Riza aimed and fired again, without thinking. Once again, the bullet was true to its mark. It hit Sloth right through the forehead…and kept going. Or, to be put more accurately, it went through Sloth's forehead, but never actually touched any skin or bone whatsoever. It never had a chance to. Because, right before it hit her, that area of Sloth's forehead became blue, wavy, and liquid…became _water_.

Riza gasped--she couldn't help it. Suddenly, it was all very, very clear. She understood now…understood everything.

_The homunculi were always one step ahead of us…they always knew everything, right as we were about to do it…_

_Hughes stepped inside, wrinkling his nose as water burbled up around his feet. 'Darn leaking roof!'_

"_It looks like another part of the roof is leaking, sir."_

Sloth was a homunculus. Homunculi had special powers. And it appeared that Sloth's was turning into water. Riza's weapon was as useless now as it had ever been against Greed.

Sloth smiled primly. "Lieutenant Hawkeye, you are aware that insubordination comes at a price, correct?"

Riza heard a small _splash_, and looked down to find a small stream of water running past her where there hadn't been any a moment ago. The water trickled down the street from its place of origin, which was Sloth- her entire arm was now blue and wavy….was water….the liquid dripped from her 'fingers' and fell to the pavement. Slowly, she turned around….just in time to see a pillar of water rising up behind her. This tall, narrow, and physically impossible pillar snaked out at her, giving her absolutely zero time to dodge, or even block herself. It smashed into her and sent her flying into a wall. Her head banged into the bricks, her legs buckled, and she caved to the floor dizzily.

"Nngh…" She struggled to climb back to her feet, only to find that she…couldn't. "W-What!"

She strained with all her might, but it was no use- her arm was stuck tight. Her stomach sank when she saw _how_ it was stuck. The building she'd just been knocked into was abandoned (most of the buildings in the area were; largely unused these days, the old factory district had been rotting away for years.) and the bricks were loose and crumbling. The pipes that the bricks were _supposed_ to conceal stuck out in many places, and Riza's sleeve was caught-tightly-on one of these rusted metal tubes.

Sloth's entire body was water now, except for her face- it was a freaky sight, to say the least. The pillar was getting larger as she pumped more water into it. Clearly, she was going for the kill. Riza tugged frantically on the knot, trying to pull her arm free. It didn't budge in the least, and the fabric was too thick to rip out. For the first time, she found herself cursing the durability of her uniform.

Sloth watched her struggle for a few moments, curving her lips into a small smile. She always loved it when her prey was helpless…it would be most enjoyable to watch this one die.

Riza tugged one last time at her sleeve and cursed. There was simply no way she could get this knot out by herself, not without fiddling with it for an hour…which she most definitely did _not_ have. Her fingers went to the buttons on her jacket, but her uniform was wet from before, and the buttons were slippery and hard to grasp left-handedly. Hearing the sound of rushing water, she looked up to see the water pillar rushing at her all over again. Never mind drowning…once this thing crashed into her, the force alone would be enough to crack her head open. She pulled desperately at the last button, her fingers numb by now from an emotion very much like fear…

But it was no good. The way things stood now, Riza's life was about to be rather abruptly cut short….and there was absolutely nothing she could do but sit there and wait.

* * *

AN- so, were the 2 homunculi ooc? sorry if they were! i'm reasonably sure Pride's perverted comment WAS, but i had to have him say something that would piss roy off immensly, 'n thats the only thing i could come up with. XD. also, i honestly have no clue what roy knows/doesnt know about what the homunculi's plans are/arent anymore anime-wise. i have to go back a bit an rewatch some episodes. just keep in mind, that if this differs in that regard from the show, it's cause i'm intentionally NOT following that storyline. too restricting. 

and yes, Greed is dead. o.o;; i'm as surprised as you are, i wasnt exactly planning on KILLING him when i first brought him in! -.-;; i wish i could make up my mind about these things ahead of time...ah well, neways, sorry to all you Greed fans, and more on that in later chapters!

ciao!

READ+REVIEW :YAY


	17. Chapter 16

AN- **tracycoder-**...:sigh:...i dont know how to answer this nemore...

**unexpectation-** YAY, i have a stalker! XD and Teen Titans rocks, lolol

**Princess Krystal101-** will i indeed...hee.

**floOfymikO-**...um...cant say anything, dont wanna give it away ;;. oh, and to everyone else, go read floOfymikO's fic she has posted, its rather awsome.

AHEM. in order to get in the mood for writing this chapter, i watched, in quick sucsession, Molon Rouge and Ladder 49. i also went to see RENT for the 4th time, and the RENT soundtrack was on replay at 'Without You', the entire time i wrote this. anyone who's seen those movies would know, based on the endings/middleish (for RENT) what kinda chapter you're in for. well, sorta. it took me longer then usual to write this cause i wanted it to come out as perfict as possible, since it's an importaint chapter. so yeah.

WARNING-CHARACTER DEATH. (maybe more then one, maybe not. heh.)**

* * *

Mistakes **

Sloth eyed the motionless figure at her feet carefully. She hadn't expected it to be that easy, really. The little fool she'd been fighting was hardly as tough as everyone said.

She had to admit, though, that the girl was stronger physically then she looked. Although the force of the water rushing at her was enough to knock half the wall behind her down, the idiot was still in one piece. There was blood trickling down from her hairline, soaking into her uniform's collar, but otherwise she didn't look half bad….for a dead person, anyway.

Still…Sloth frowned. The wall's collapse had freed the lieutenant's arm, and she didn't want to just leave her here if there was even the slightest chance she might get up again. It would be simple enough to double-check, of course….the homunculus kicked her, right in the face. The body sort of crumpled and fell back against the wall's remains. Sloth nodded primly. So…she really was dead. Good. Sloth didn't really like fist-fighting, but she had to admit that _had_ been rather enjoyable.

With one task completed, she wondered how to fulfill the second. Pride had told her to bring back proof that the girl was dead—why, he didn't say, but Sloth could certainly guess. However, she really did _not_ want to have to drag a stinking body behind her for three more blocks…time to improvise.

She reached down, seizing the bloody collar of the military jacket. With a _snarl_, she ripped the shoulder out, and straightened up. The shoulder was where the epaulettes were placed, and the three stripes hung limply in her hand. There…that should be more then enough evidence for Pride, and this way she could just leave the body there to rot.

As she turned away, something else caught her eye. Lying next to the body was the butt of a small black pistol…probably the same one the girl had been using. Heh…not that it did much. The interesting thing was that the gun was cracked right in half, with the barrel end lying some two feet away in the street. Wasn't it amazing, she chuckled, how powerful water could be?

She looked back at the dead girl, and her smile widened. Sloth didn't usually show much emotion, but an occasion like this always improved her mood. She only wished the girl's skull _had_ cracked open—it was quite fascinating to see someone splattered over the pavement like so much dirt. Ah well, one couldn't have everything in life, now could they. Take this girl here…

Heh…it really was too funny. The look on the Flame Alchemist's face when he found out was bound to be priceless. She half expected him to just drop dead from shock in the middle of his fight.

Sloth turned away from the dead girl again, her interest waning. It was just another day, and another brainless human destroyed—nothing important. Nothing special. An exterminator didn't cry every time he killed a cockroach, did he? And, after all, that's what Sloth was—an exterminator, only the bugs she stepped on weren't cockroaches. Might as well have been though…they were just as stupid. And when push came to shove, and you flicked on the light to their death, they scurried away frantically in circles, just like their insect counterparts. Sloth couldn't stand bugs, and humans were her least favorite kind of bug. So stupid, so short-sighted…they really were just like roaches. Only at least roaches could survive without their heads for a few days. Humans just rolled over and died. Pathetic.

The brown-haired homunculus shook her head, and walked down the street, the gun butt in her hand along with the epaulettes. She turned the corner and vanished from view, leaving Riza Hawkeye's body alone on the deserted street…

* * *

"Aaahgh!" 

Roy let out a cry born both of surprise and pain as Pride's sword blade cut down into his shoulder. He jerked himself away, biting his tongue to keep from screaming again. Pride smirked and lowered his now-dripping sword. Roy cursed silently, one hand clamped over the bloody wound. _God damn_, that hurt!

"Very impressive, Colonel. That attack was meant to kill."

Roy didn't bother answering, as his attention was currently on the waves of pain shooting up and down his arm. It felt the way he imagined fire would, hot little licks of agony sweeping past…

Roy Mustang might have been the Flame Alchemist, but he did not know what fire felt like against bare skin. Ashes, yes, smoke, yes, heat, yes. But of actual flames, he remained pitifully naïve…

_Damn…that bastard is fast…I didn't even hear him sneak up behind me!_

It was a good thing Roy's reflexives were so good—he'd seen the katana blade soaring at him out of the corner of his eye, and had instinctively ducked. Had he been any rustier, it was extremely doubtful he would have moved fast enough to avoid having his head sliced off. As it was, his left shoulder was now totally lacerated, which meant his left arm was little more then useless. _God damn…_

"This has been very enjoyable, Colonel, I thank you. But I am afraid my interest weakens."

"Yeah, yeah, you can skip the ranting, pal."

Pride's eyebrows rose. "All this, and you have yet to take me seriously?"

Roy grinned. It was a bad habit of his, taunting his opponents even when he was caught rather tightly between a rock and a hard place. "Noo, honestly, I'm taking you seriously. Oh, completely seriously, _sir_."

"Hm." Pride frowned. "I suppose it's in your nature to be…_foolish_, seeing as how you_ are _only a mortal."

"Uh-huh, well, you know something, it's too bad you won't be alive to see this 'foolish mortal' take over your position."

"Ah heh heh…" Pride chuckled unpleasantly. "Yes, well, at least I won't be the only one. You know what they say, Colonel Mustang-it's quite lonely at the top. I do hope you're prepared…"

Roy's eyes narrowed. "…And just what the hell do you mean by—"

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence-Pride chose that instance to go on the offensive with his sword, and it was all Roy could do to keep a step ahead of him. In fact, he couldn't even do that completely- the homunculus was just too damn fast. Every few seconds, his sword would nick at Roy's face, or hands, or chest—not serious enough to do any real damage, but the cuts all bled, and they were starting to add up.

"Nngh…" Roy winced as the sword cut him right across the cheek, leaving a red line in its wake. He snapped his fingers, hoping simply to get Pride to back up and give him some fricken _breathing_ room, but Pride ducked and the flames went right past him.

_God damn it!_ Roy couldn't believe how _fast_ this guy was!

"What seems to be the matter, Colonel?" Pride hissed at him, his sword scratching at Roy's arm. "You haven't touched me yet. Is this a bit too much for you to handle?"

Roy jerked his arm back, but it was too late- he could feel the warm blood trickling down his arm.

"I suppose you're simply_ inept_ without that lieutenant of yours rushing in to clean up _your_ messes." He smirked. "It would certainly be interesting to see you try and function _without_ her, if, for some strange reason, she was no longer able to help you…"

_"Shut up!" _

Roy was suddenly hit by a wave of pure anger. Furiously, he swung at Pride, and this time…he actually hit him. His fist connected with the side of Pride's face, who stumbled back in surprise. Roy, breathing hard, rubbed his fist and glared at the homunculus, whose hand was on his new injury, blocking the side of his face from view.

"Very…interesting," Pride said coldly. "Like all humans, you work better when reacting on blind emotion. It's the kind of stupid impulse that makes you all so laughable."

"Works though, doesn't it?" Roy snarled back. "And, by the way, in the future I would suggest keeping your mouth shut."

"The future…?" Bradley laughed, his voice ice. "Tell me, Colonel, just what do _you_ know of the future?"

Roy paused. _What is he babbling about now…?_

"You, who is only a miserable human, who can see nothing but what your dim mind _allows_ you to comprehend…what do you know of what the future holds?" His hand moved away from his face…

Roy gasped. _What the…what the hell is **that**?_

Roy's punch had apparently knocked Pride's eye patch off, and what was underneath it was enough to make even the hardened colonel flinch in disgust…

An eye…without a pupil. Just a sickeningly white orb, no color, no depth. This wasn't the cloudy milk-like color of a blind man's eyes, this was…different…this was worse. It was worse, because, as Roy watched, his feet rooted to the floor in amazed horror, the eye…rolled. It kind of flipped down in its socket, revealing a part of it that had up until that moment faced the inside of the homunculus's head. And, on that part, instead of only white, there were thin red lines, forming an all-too-familiar design…

_The…the oriborus tattoo…? On his…**eye**!_

"Surprised, Mustang?" asked Pride coolly. "Didn't you wonder how I've been able to avoid all your attacks with such ease? Weren't you even the slightest bit curious as to what my powers as a homunculus are?"

Roy didn't answer- his attention was still locked on that hideous orb staring unseeingly out of the monster's head…

"With this eye, I am granted powers the likes of which you could only dream of. It allows me to look into the future…not very far, granted, but far enough for me to see when and how you plan to attack each and every single time. It gives me the ability to know more at one time then you could even begin to comprehend. And it even enhances my speed and skill with a sword. It is truly the Ultimate Eye."

Roy considered all of this new information quite carefully. And then: "You need a better name for it. Greed already took 'Ultimate' for his shield thing."

Pride laughed again, his tone mocking. "You poor, pathetic human. You fail to see what you are really dealing with. Or maybe…you just don't want to see."

"Oh, please," Roy scoffed. "You said that thing lets you look into the future and see when an attack's coming, but it must be broken or something, because I just punched you in the face. Guess your clairvoyance is on strike, huh?"

"Hardly. Every once and a while, an action born out of impulse will escape my sight. It is harder for the Eye to pick up on that which is not thought out before-hand. Harder…not impossible. I can still catch almost ninety percent of all movements, planned-out or not."

"If you're done patting yourself on the back…" Roy yawned.

Pride shook his head. "Perhaps it would be easier for you to understand the situation you have forced upon yourself if you were confronted with some of the…_results_ of your hastiness, shall we say?"

Roy frowned, looking hard at the homunculus with his brows furrowed. There it was again…Pride was hinting at _something_…but what…? Then he realized that Pride was no longer looking at him, but at the open door behind him.

"You may come in now," the homunculus was saying, smoothly, and Roy's heart skipped a beat as someone walked past him into the room.

_Aw shit…!_ He cursed inwardly as Juliet Douglas approached her superior, a small smile evident on her face. _How the hell long has **she** been there! And how exactly am I supposed to fight both her and Mr. Ultimate Eye over there at the same goddamn time!_

"It's finished," Juliet's voice was barely above a whisper. Pride nodded in answer. Roy wondered briefly what she was talking about, but then his eyes were drawn to something she was holding in her hand. He couldn't quite make whatever it was out, but it looked familiar…

For some reason, his thoughts suddenly turned to Riza. He really couldn't see where he'd made the connection, but oh well. Slight tendrils of worry began to drift over him. Where _was_ Riza, anyway? It'd certainly been more then twenty minutes since he'd gotten here, and he knew she'd be the _last _to show up late in a situation like this.

"Did you bring…?" Pride raised an eyebrow, apparently not seeing what he was expecting to see.

"No sir, I apologize. But I did bring something else…" She pressed whatever she was holding into his hand; he looked at the object and smiled slightly.

"Very good, Miss Douglas—or should I say, very good, _Sloth_. This will work out perfectly."

"Sorry to interrupt," Roy growled, "But I'd like to end this sometime this year."

Pride shook his head slightly, smiling. "As you can see, Sloth, Colonel Mustang here is still very much in denial."

"How irritating," Sloth agreed quietly, also smiling in a way that really pissed Roy off. It was an 'I-know-more-then-you-do' smile, and it was getting _majorly_ on his nerves.

"Quite. Which is why I was hoping this-" and here he nodded at the thing in his hand-"would bring him to his senses."

Roy gritted his teeth. "I'm not exactly _interested_ in fucking show and tell, homunculus!"

"I think, Colonel, that you will be interested in _this_."

He tossed the object at Roy, and it clattered at his feet.

"Go ahead, Mustang, pick it up." His lips curved upwards in a nasty grin. "Trust me, it's something you'll want to see."

Roy was suddenly struck by a crazy urge to turn and run, to pretend like he couldn't see what Pride had thrown at him. It was a crazy idea, hell, it was absolutely _insane_…but it was still there. Something deep within warned him _not_ to look at whatever Pride was so pleased to see. Something deep within warned that he did not want to learn what was destined to be nothing but a devastating truth…

His body moved on his own, though-he found himself bending down to pick the object up even as he yearned to ignore it. His fingers closed around hard metal and softer cloth, and as he studied the object, he realized that it was actually _two_ separate things. One of them, a thin strip of fabric, was wrapped around the other, which was a hunk of black metal. Roy's mind slowed in confusion. What the heck was all this…?

"Interesting, eh, Mustang?" the president sneered. Roy ignored him, his heart already beginning to pound inside his chest. Which was absurd, of course, because what was so scary about a piece of cloth and a chunk of metal…?

Then…he noticed something. The sliver of material was oozing liquid…red liquid…blood. It was so blood-soaked, that little drops were dripping off the edge and hitting the filthy floor. Even as Roy watched, dark red stains ballooned out on his gloves, slowly growing larger and larger. He felt the gloves start to stick to his hands as they became heavier and heavier with blood that was not his…

The colors clashed horribly. White-on-red, red-on-white…it seemed to be an almost nauseating pattern, although he couldn't figure out why. White-on-red, red-on-white…

Juliet Douglas, her mission done, turned and left the room again. She passed right by Roy, but the colonel was frozen and made no move to stop her.

Slowly, very slowly—his actions were approaching the pace of a snail in his desperate desire to remain in the dark about all of this—he turned the strip over. Somehow, it didn't come as a great surprise to see the three stripes hanging limply on the other side. Three stripes…the insignia of a first lieutenant…

Dazed, his movements that of a sleepwalker only just awakened, he looked at the other object clenched in his hand. It took him a moment to realize what it was.

_A…gun?_

Yes, a gun…or at least what was left of one. The barrel had been snapped off completely. There were little scarlet drops on this as well…they stood out in stark contrast against the clean metal.

Wait…clean metal? Roy frowned in confusion once more. That didn't make sense…he knew from his experiences with Riza that guns never stayed perfectly clean like that…this looked like a brand-new gun, or at least one that was never used…but…

_Wait…_his eyes widened.

_This….this is **my** gun!_

It was such a huge thing, that it took several moments for him to fully grasp what he was dealing with. And even then, denial took hold and he told himself that it could not be true…

_Riza told me she would take good care of my gun. She **promised**. And Riza never breaks her promises, not ever….not **ever**…_

He looked back up at Pride again, swallowing hard. He sorted carefully through the myriad supply of emotions currently keeping him company, and decided that that safest one—the one that would require the least amount of acceptance about something he refused to believe—was anger.

"What…the hell is this?" he demanded. "What the…_hell_…is this?"

"You have eyes, don't you? I suggest you use them."

Roy shook his head, although he instantly wished he hadn't-it only made the dizziness enveloping him more distinct. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true…what Pride was suggesting was nuts, was madness, was…was…it couldn't be true!

"I don't believe you," he snarled, but the effect was ruined when his voice cracked. "I-I don't! I don't!"

Pride snorted. "Oh, come now, Mustang. Is it really so hard to accept?"

_"It's not true!"_

He stood there, clenching his fists, the sharp, jagged edge of the gun cutting into his skin. He was furious with this homunculus for toying with him, for making him confront this most dreaded fear, this nightmare that kept him up at night. It was…it couldn't be…how absurd….of course it wasn't true. Riza had _promised_ him…it wasn't true. Roy was sure of this. Really. He was. It couldn't be true…

"_I'll always protect you, Colonel…I promise…"_

Pride chuckled. "You see, Colonel, this is exactly what I was talking about. Humans become _blind_ as opposed to facing something they're too _weak_ to handle."

"No!"

Roy was filled with an insane desire to convince Pride that it really _was_ impossible for Riza to be…no…no, it wasn't true…he _had_ to convince the homunculus! He _had_ to!

"Riza isn't…she _can't_ be…!"

"Really, and why is that?"

"Because! Because she promised me…" He realized that he was breathing so hard, with such wound-up alarm, that his chest was beginning to ache. "She promised me once, a long time ago, that she'd always be there. And Riza Hawkeye doesn't break her promises. She promised me that she'd always be there to protect me, whether I wanted her to or not, until—"

He stopped suddenly. His throat closed up. Something big and rough and terrible had just occurred to him. The one little loophole that would ruin everything…

"Until…?" Pride smirked. Apparently he had figured it out too. "Finish your sentence, Colonel. Until…?"

"U-Un…until…until she…" Roy was floundering in the muck, the words trapped in his throat and strangling him. He felt light-headed, faint, destroyed… "Until she…she…"

"Until she died. Isn't that what you are trying to say, Colonel? Hmm?" Pride laughed, a sharp sound that offended the ears. "That silly girl promised to stand by you…until the day she _died_. Isn't that the truth?"

"_No_…no, it isn't….it….it isn't…"

"It _is_," Pride said flatly. "And you know it is." He snorted, eyeing Mustang with obvious scorn. "Look at you. Who was that girl, that you should care so much? And yet, here you are, so determined to ignore the truth that you would deny it all."

"_Shut up_!" Roy yelled. "How…how dare you! How dare you—"

"How dare _I_!" Pride looked at him incredulously. "Are you really _that_ blind? Can you not see what has really happened? Let me tell you, Mustang, you can play pretend all you want, but in the end you know the truth. There's no confusion or guesswork in a situation like this-death is death. It's final. It's the end. Death is a mistake that can never be set right. And rest assured…your first lieutenant _is_ dead."

The gun dropped from Roy's hand. It hit the stone floor with a _crack. _The noise echoed in his ears, over and over…it sounded like a gunshot being fired….it sounded like his very _life_ snapping in two…

The epaulettes wafted slowly down to the ground after the weapon—Roy's trembling hands could no longer keep a firm enough grip on them. Even now, deadly burgundy leaked from them to the floor…

"_I'll always protect you, Colonel…"_

_No…_

"And would you like to know _why_ she died?" Pride's voice was frigid and disdainful. "You'll blame me, of course-you'll pin it all on an 'evil homunculus trick' or some _amazing_ power of mine. But you're wrong. I didn't kill that girl…_you_ did."

_Noo…_

"You are such a hopeless soul, Mustang. Why should you be so surprised at where the guilt truly lies? You knew that she would follow you to Hell and back if you asked her…you knew that, in the end, she would stand by you, no matter how crazy you acted. You knew all this…and yet, you go and insist upon _this_ risky little venture. You fool." The homunculus was starting to sound angry himself. "You couldn't wait another few years. You couldn't mind your place. You just couldn't see past your damn _morals_. Ideals are for the weak—it's time you realized that. If you want to get anywhere in life, you have to give them up. That's all you had to do, Colonel…all you had to do, and the power you're so frantic for would have been yours. But _no_…that wouldn't do for Roy Mustang, oh, no. Roy Mustang must be the hero. He must flirt with danger and always be in the thick of everything. If there aren't any problems, he'll_ make_ some, just so he looks good."

Roy wavered on his feet. Every word coming out of Pride's mouth was like a knife, cutting him open, leaving gashes along his heart and soul that hurt so much, they _had_ to be visible. And still, the president did not let up…still, the never-ending waterfall crashed down upon his head…a waterfall of, not water, but of blood, and of tears…

And of death…

"So, here we have Colonel Roy Mustang. He's a celebrated war hero who uses his _angst _to make him sound like some kind of god damned _saint_. After all, why not? It's easy enough to hide your bloody hands from the world, right?"

_No…Riza…_

"And then, when because of his idiocy he finds himself being beaten down, he stands there like a simpleton and asks why. You stupid, stupid man. Did you honestly think it was only _your_ life to throw away?"

Pride would never know how much his words at that point mirrored Hughes's.

"Did you not realize, when you first decided that you were too good to wait your turn, that you would be putting others in danger as well? Did you even _care_? That girl would still be alive if you hadn't stuck your nose where it didn't belong. The only reason she is dead…is because of _you_."

_I never meant…for you to die…_

"Don't try and pin the blame on anyone but yourself, Mustang," Bradley said harshly, "because it rests on _you,_ and you _alone._"

_Riza…_

"Lieutenant Hawkeye trusted you. She willingly risked her life for you. And this is how you repay her? By allowing her to die for your selfish cause? She probably had no idea that you were using her, did she?"

"_I have faith in you. I will never give up on you…"_

_Riza!_

Roy stumbled backwards, his body slumping against the wall. There was a terrible roaring in his head…he was going numb…oh, god, this was worse then any physical wound….this was…unbearable…

_I shouldn't have let her get involved…I shouldn't have put her at risk…_

"N-No…"

_"Sir, I'm not afraid…I understand you want to protect those under you, but…"_

_Oh god! Riza!_

"No…!"

"_I'll be careful…"_

"I never…I n-never wanted…" His voice rose pleadingly, as if by begging his case he could somehow erase everything, erase it all.

"What you wanted and what you got are two different things, Colonel," Pride answered coolly. "As they say, actions speak louder then words."

_All I wanted to do was love her…_

"_I'll be fine…"_

_A-Actions speak louder then words…I…I killed her…I let her die…first the Ishbalans, now Riza…I killed them…all of them!_

"What is it about you? You claim to hate death so much, and yet it follows you everywhere."

"_I'll protect you. I promise."_

_You lied…_

Roy suddenly gagged, and doubled over. The room spun around him, faster and faster. Pride's words—_he's right! Oh, god…he's right!—_thundered in his ears. He couldn't escape them. He couldn't fight them off. He couldn't stop from trembling…he was shaking so hard he thought he might break in half….

Not that the idea was so horrible. Why shouldn't he snap? Why shouldn't he just lie down and waste away? What was left? _What was left?_

Someone's voice in his ear—Riza's?—sang softly in his ear, telling him, _the mission, the mission…_

_Who cares about the mission!_ He wanted to scream—or maybe he did scream. _What's the point of the goddamn mission anymore!_ He cried—or maybe he only thought he cried.

_Riza would want you to keep fighting…_

_I can't! There's nothing left! She's dead…Riza's dead!_

_She would want you to defeat Pride…she would want you to make something useful of her sacrifice…_

_Riza…why did you ever support me? Why did I ever have to fall in love with you? _

The pain was simply too much--another second and he would crumble.

_I never deserved you…why did you let yourself die for me? I'm not worth it! Oh my god, Riza…Riza…I don't want you to go…_

And still Pride would not back off, would not leave Roy Mustang to wither away in peace.

"I actually ordered Sloth to bring back her dead body, but I suppose it was simply too much of a mess to be dragged all the way here. She does have a tendency to get a bit…messy."

"No….no…!" Roy didn't want to listen to this. He fell to his knees, in mortal agony. "No…!"

"What a shame…knowing Sloth, that unfortunate, naive little girl probably didn't even have the saving grace of a peaceful death. It was _probably_ excruciatingly painful. But that's ok…she _is_ in the military after all. It comes with the territory." He smirked. "Oh, pardon me…I should have said _was_."

"No….stop…stop it!"

"I wonder," the homunculus continued innocently, "if she regretted her choice at the end. Do you think she accepted her fate? Or perhaps she wailed against it…and against the man who _caused_ it."

_I would rather that…I would rather she hate me…god, let me just die. Let me just end it here and burn in hell. I don't care any more…I don't…I don't…_

Roy thought of Riza, of her beauty, of the world that from here on in would be only grey…

He thought of how it all should have ended….

He thought of how he had killed the greatest thing in his life…

He thought of how she was the only person in the world who could really look past both his tough veneer _and_ his sins and into a part of him that he had never known existed…

And he thought of the sneer on the face of the monster standing in front of him….

And he broke.

"**_You bastard! I'll kill yooouuuu!_**

He lunged at the homunculus, wild with rage. His fists lashed out at Pride—and connected.

"Nngh…!" Pride reeled back, but had no chance to fall. Roy's fists were flying-they were nothing but a whirling blur. It was then that Pride discovered, to his surprised horror, that his Eye was affording him no help in this fight. This was impulse…this was wrath…this was nothing Pride could ever predict. How could he have predicted that a mere human could move so fast, with so much speed and hatred and, above all…with so much desire to kill?

Pride began to fall back, Roy's insane rage pushing him all over the room. Little flashes of light sprung up, as the homunculus started to heal the damage Roy left behind. Still, the onslaught was so fast, and so brutal, the president's healing powers were beginning to have trouble keeping up…

Roy himself didn't notice when the beast he was currently pounding into oblivion weakened ever-so-slightly. He didn't notice how his hands were by now awash with blood. He didn't notice when what had to be the first look of concern Pride had ever worn appeared, flickering over his face before he could hide it. He didn't notice any of that…

Had he noticed, he would not have cared.

With a sickening crunch, his next punch broke the homunculus's nose. Pride, for his part, only winced slightly—already, the bones were _crickling_ back together, so there wasn't much time for pain. Still, that was the second time his nose had been broken in less than two minutes…if he didn't know better, he'd say he was starting to get a little worried.

Roy just kept punching-he was too angry to remember to use his alchemy. To his horror, though, he found that no matter how fast or hard or lethal his blows were, he couldn't escape that freezing, deadened sensation slowly crawling up his legs, all the while threatening to dive much, much deeper.

He was afraid his heart might freeze next…

_He never had gotten around to apologizing to her, although he'd certainly planned to. He'd intended to, one day, go back and apologize for all the grief he'd caused her over the years…all of it. And he really did have a lot to apologize for, too. He'd decided that every stupid thing he'd ever done would be set right--dating other women instead of her, driving her away because he couldn't figure out how to show he truly needed her, being such a weak coward that she even** had** to be his bodyguard in the first place. He was going to say he was sorry for all the times she'd found him trying to hasten his entrance into the next world, for all the times she'd had to hit him to bring him back to his senses, for all the times he'd given up…he was going to apologize for **everything**. Even all those times when he took naps instead of doing his paperwork. **Everything.** And, most of all, he was going to apologize for never telling her that he loved her…for ignoring her advice solely because of a thing called pride…but the words had never come. The time had never been right. And now his chance was gone…_

There was a noticeable lag now, in the time it took Pride to heal himself. He was, in his now-blatant desperation, ignoring some of the smaller cuts and scrapes in his effort to mend the larger ones…

_Riza was beautiful…from the first time he'd seen her, Roy was amazed by her beauty. Everything she did, even the most basic of movements, seemed to be enhanced to total perfection…the way she swung her hips when she walked, the way Roy could get lost in her eyes without even trying…the way one single glare from her was enough to make his heart sink to his shoes…she was so beautiful. And maybe it was this ethereal beauty that made things seem just a little bit better, as long as Roy could look up and see her there…_

Another punch, and another…there were so many little flashes of light around Pride's face, he was starting to resemble a light bulb. And still, Roy fought on…

Roy was like most guys—he was obsessed with 'saving face', with always looking nice and manly to the world around him. Like most guys, he rarely if ever cried, because to cry in public would be an open admission of weakness. He, like the majority of the male species, felt that shedding tears was a pathetic thing to do, something to avoid if at all possible. Which is why the tiny part of him that was focusing on such things, found it weird that there should be tears in his eyes….

_Riza had always been there….she was always by his side, even during times when Roy would have rather been left alone. There's one time in particular that stands out in his mind…it had been a bad night, a bad week, a bad month…hell, it had been a bad **year**. He had only recently been made a colonel, but already he found that this much-longed-for promotion didn't mean shit to the demons of his dreams. And, honestly unable to take another night like all the nights before it, he had found himself the seediest, most rundown bar imaginable, and had planted himself on a bar stool, fully intent on drinking himself to death. And then, just as it seemed he would achieve his macabre goal, **she** had appeared. With hands that were deceivingly light, and a voice that couldn't quite drown its worry in anger, she'd pried him away from his seat, and half-dragged him by his collar out the door, ignoring the cat calls and wolf whistles from all the **other** boozed-up idiots around them. Once outside, she'd proceeded to berate him, furiously, while he wavered on his feet and tried not to pass out right then and there. He hadn't given her much thought, not in the state he was in. All that crossed his mind was the dim wish that he could find some place relatively soft to lie down…_

_And then, her voice had cracked a bit—just slightly, but enough for Roy to snap out of his drunken stupor and look at her in concern. God only knew how long she had been looking for him, how many bars she had blazed into, how worried she had been…_

_Finally, he managed to stutter out a slurred apology (just one, although in truth he should never have stopped apologizing, because he sure as hell didn't stop doing things to apologize **for**), and Riza seemed to accept it, more or less. She even smiled slightly. It was then that Roy realized it was snowing._

_Although later on, he would blame the alcohol roaming through his system for thinking such nonsense, at the time, the thought crossed his mind that it was an awfully romantic scene, and that some day he'd have to try and see if they couldn't recapture it…_

"You…bastard…you…bastard…you…"

Roy was slowly but surely running out of steam. Pride was able to dodge his next punch, and, rubbing blood off his chin, he smirked once again at the destroyed colonel in front of him.

"Is that it?" he sneered. "Is that the best you can do? Is that how you choose to end this, Mustang?"

_Wait…_

Roy looked at him, hopelessly. It hurt, not having anything left to hold on to. It really did…

"_I'll always protect you…"_

_Wait…Riza…_

"_Your first lieutenant **is** dead."_

"_I'll always…"_

Her voice was becoming fainter in his ear…

_Riza! **Wait!**_

Pride didn't even have time to wipe the smirk off of his face. Roy's fist smashed into his jaw, breaking it. But before he could heal that, the enraged colonel kicked his legs out from under him. For the first time ever, the homunculus found himself on the ground.

He moved quickly to get up, but Roy was faster. He stomped savagely on the president's fingers, hearing with bitter satisfaction the crunching of bones. Then he kicked him right in the face. Pride's healing powers were simply overwhelmed…a part of his Ultimate Eye was torn away, but Roy was too distraught to care…there was a glimmer of red…

It was then that Roy Mustang remembered his alchemy. Just as the president, the flashes of light around him dim, was climbing back to his feet…he snapped.

It was an explosion the likes of which even Roy had never seen.

His anger, his misery, his downright _helplessness_ to change what had beset him—all of these emotions and more collided with one another to produce, not mere flames, but a fire storm of power. Fire rushed from his hands, leaped at Pride, devoured him hungrily. The homunculus shrieked and twisted, but by the time the flames had died down, most of his face had been eaten clean away…

He turned, slowly, back to Roy. It was a horrific sight, one the old colonel would have flinched at in repulsion. The new one couldn't care less. The new one, after all, was not a man, but an empty shell…

The empty shell stared blankly at the homunculus with the face of a twisted skeleton. Flesh was slowly creeping back to cover some of the revoltingly pale bones, but not nearly as fast as usual. Old, burned shreds still hung from the cheek bones. The homunculus—the skeleton—opened his mouth to speak, but the slight movement was enough to knock something that had been, up till that point, dangling from the remainder of his Eye, loose…

Something red and round fell to the floor, and rolled, finally halting by Roy's feet. Pride's healing powers immediately stopped, although the job was only half done. For a second, man and monster simply stood and stared at one another.

And then…

"You fool! Give that to me! _Now!"_

Pride lunged, his fingers—which were a charcoal black from the flames—outstretched. Roy looked down at the small stone he now clutched in his gloved, filthy hand. How strange…there was something very important he was supposed to do with this stone, he thought. Something very, very important…

Fortunately, his mind remembered even if his heart didn't. His fingers moved on their own, and squeezed…Pride roared with panicked fury and leapt at him again, but his movements were laughably slow without the stone to boost them. Roy applied more pressure. The stone cracked…cracked…cracked…

The stone broke neatly in half, and crumpled into red powder.

The homunculus howled, and grabbed at Roy's sleeve in a last, desperate effort. Roy grimaced and jerked away, not noticing in the confusion that Pride had managed to yank his katana back out. With a final angry yell, he whipped the sword down…

"_Aaaah_!"

The sword bit deep down into Roy's face, through his eye, almost to his cheek. A vicious wave of agonizing pain overtook him—he lurched away, almost convulsing in his distress. Blood poured from the wound at an alarming rate, until his vision was half hidden by smears of crimson…

"_Aaah! Aaaagh!_!"

Roy screamed in pain for all the times he hadn't screamed, had wanted to scream but didn't, had longed to yell but couldn't bring himself to. He knew, deep inside, that his screams were not only for the physical pain, but for the internal agony, which was still much, much worse...

The world was going dark—it was red on black now, no other colors. Nothing else could get through. Already, Roy felt himself growing faint, and struggled against the urge to pass out.

Even when they can not find a reason to live, humans oftentimes still do not want to die.

Pride latched on to the moaning man's sleeve, his own body beginning to shrivel away. Half dead, and quickly loosing control of his few remaining senses, Roy brought his arm up, and with a nauseating _snap_, Pride's neck flew back. His torched and ruined body fell against the wall, but his fingers remained tightly fixed around Roy's sleeve. The empty shell tugged, but he could not shake them loose.

"H-Heh…heh…" Pride rasped, his bony lips only inches away from the bleeding colonel's face. "Y-You've...won...Colo...Colonel Mustang…" He paused for a moment, to gather the fleeting bits and pieces of his strength. "You…you have…destroyed me. B-But loo…look around you, Colonel…look at…what you have…won..."

Roy gave another feeble tug, even though he knew it wouldn't do anything. His face and uniform were stained and slippery with his blood and his suffering.

"A-An emp…empty position…and…a dead…lieutenant. Was it…worth it, Colonel?" Pride laughed, one last time, his voice almost too quiet to be heard. He still, however, managed to smirk.

"Are…are you…satisfied now…?"

The homunculus's head fell back. His body went limp. The fingers loosened their grip on Roy's sleeve. And, as the last traces of life left him-it-the bones crumbled into dust, mixing with the red residue from the stone…

* * *

Roy stumbled outside. He could not remember how he got there. One hand was still clamped futilely over his mangled eye. Even the red was starting to fade from his sight. His thoughts were confused and disoriented, jumping from one thing to another.

_Good….I'm glad…death…Riza…_

He had no hopes of going to heaven, but maybe god—if there was such a thing—would be kind and let him see Riza one last time before the devil claimed him as his own…

_It…it doesn't hurt any more…_

That was true-the pain was starting to numb. The physical, that is. Not the rest. No, this would not be one of those deaths where everything was peaceful and the person smiled as their life left them. There was too much Roy hadn't done, too many regrets still clinging to him…the feel of Pride's fingers digging into his torn skin was still there. So were his last words.

_How…strange…underneath, Pride…he looked…just like everyone else…he really….wasn't so different…from humans….after all…._

Blood splattered to the ground, a crimson trail.

_J-Just like….my nightmare…only here, I can….I can die…but…I don't…I don't want to…Riza still won't….be there…in hell…_

Darkness finally overtook him. He pitched forward, swallowed up by the endless nothing, by bitter winds and frozen rain, and by the howls of all those he had murdered, as his long-suffering demons dragged him down with glee…

_R-Riza…I don't…Riza…I'm…sorry…_

He gave up and allowed his sins, victorious, to pull him down…he faded out…there was nothing….just…blackness…

* * *

AN- :SIGH:. i'm so evil. roy might be a bit OOC at points, sry. did my best, lol. Pride's probably COMPLETLY outa character, but him i dont care so much about. cause he sucks. lmao. 

i saw last saterday's episode, where Bradley kills mar...uh...shit, forgot her name o.o;;. you know, the snake chimera. ;; i have no short term memory, its sad -.-;. ANYWAYS. when he killed her, i was so pissed i decided to make him an even bigger asshole in this chapter. grrrrr i dislike him intensly after that! and the fact that his eye...ROLLS...is just...nasty...erlgh. for story purposes, i made up his powers. are those the right ones? could be. no clue. hah hah.

ok then, review! dont kill me for the sadness, tho! ;;

and, finally, i would like to leave youwith one last word of wisdom-> don't belive everything you read. vague? yes. is there a point to that? yes. heh, see you.


	18. Chapter 17

AN- **:reviewer responces will be at the end this time around.:**

OK then. soo glad i finally got this done. you have NO IDEA how hellish it was to write. 'bout mid-way thru, i suddenly got hit wit the worse case of writer's block i've had so far. i literally spent three days sitting there STARING at themw filewithout typing more then a line or two. it was rather bad, lol. but it's gone now, so yay. the second section is where it bit down the worse, so in my opinion that part sucks. OOCness abounds in that chunk, tho i did my best with that. writer's block's a bitch, tho, so keep that in mind while you're going, 'wtf they'd never say that!'

anyways...i'm annoyed that wb hit NOW of all times, cause i was really lookin' foward to this chapter. it's the one that 'started it all' so to speak; i randomly formed a bare-bones story idea 'round some screenshots i saw--not even planning on writing it down--and as time went on, just kept adding to the idea 'till i coodnt NOT write it down. amazingly, i only had 3 chapters planned origionally 0.0;;. dont ask me where the other 14 came from! XD

ahh...not counting this, only 3 chapters left...+ one of them's the epilouge, too...;;...:sigh:...ah well, onwards to the story! (and the angst, lol.)**

* * *

**

**Rebirth**

_Nngh…_

As her eyes fluttered open, Riza was struck by a sensation much like the one that comes after having the air knocked out of you-a peculiar sort of gasping for oxygen that you know is there, but that you can't seem to suck into your lungs. Her eyelids felt heavy; it took some effort to get them to open and stay open. Her head, her chest-everything hurt, everything was throbbing and sore. But at least she was alive to feel the soreness.

Slowly, experimentally, she moved her arms up and down, first the right, then the left. It was an old combat trick- test out the limbs first, because straining to use broken arms or legs could make the damage even worse. Luckily for Riza, it seemed that her extremities were still in one piece, more or less. Her left arm was stinging rather painfully, but it wasn't such an overbearing discomfort that she couldn't get past it.

Standing was a bit trickier. At first, Riza tried using the bricks behind her as a sort of leverage to pull herself to her feet, but they crumbled into useless powder at the slightest touch. Plus, half the wall had already been knocked down, so there wasn't much to grab onto in the first place. Finally, hissing under her breath at the wave of pain standing set off, she managed to get to her feet unaided. There was a bad moment where she felt as if she might buckle with dizziness- colorful dots rushed in front of her eyes, and the ground seemed to heave beneath her feet. The moment passed, however, and after a few deep breaths, Riza found that some of the stiffness was already starting to go away.

The immediate concerns of getting back on her feet taken care of, the lieutenant allowed herself a minute or two of surprise. Surprise, that is, that she was-somehow-still alive. Normally, Riza wouldn't have dwelt for very long on the particulars of her survival—she was still breathing, ok, great, time to move on. But in a case like this…stuck there, watching the pillar of water coming right at her, unable to free herself from either the wall or her jacket, she'd resorted to Plan C (a plan created out of desperation, one that hadn't been there a second ago), and quickly ducked down as low as she could, hoping that the worst of the water's power would miss her. If only she could stay in one piece, she'd figured, she could handle whatever other injuries she received. As it seemed to have turned out, Plan C had been successful. The wall behind her had taken the worst of the onslaught, not her. Still…Riza felt uncomfortable shivers run down her spine at the condition the wall was currently in. That could have very easily been _her_, lying smashed on the pavement.

A cold breeze blew by just then, causing her to shiver. Upon looking up, Riza discovered that the sky had undergone another color change, this time from dusty charcoal to an almost _midnight_ shade of black. Yes…there was definitely going to be one last giant storm before the past month's bad weather came to an end.

There was another, stronger gust of wind, and Riza felt fresh goose bumps rising up along her arms…wait….she looked down at her arm with raised eyebrows. Exactly where had the shoulder to her uniform gone? The epaulettes normally on the right shoulder of her jacket were…not there. Weird…could the force of the water have blown them off? Riza doubted it.

Something suddenly dripped into her left eye, stinging and momentarily blinding her. She quickly wiped the foreign substance out of her eye, only to find that it was blood. Not surprising, really- there were plenty of cuts on her face, not to mention a large lump that felt suspiciously like a welt left over from a punch or kick.

Ignoring the wounds for now (they were relatively small anyway), she looked up and down the empty street. No sign of Sloth…but there were puddles everywhere, and Sloth could be posing as any one of them. In fact, Riza wouldn't be surprised if—

_Clunk._

Clunk?

Riza looked down to see a long, thin black tube by her feet. Evidently she'd just stepped on it. Huh…strange…the object looked familiar. It looked sort of like…

Sort of like the barrel of a gun. Which was, of course, exactly what it was—a gun's barrel. Or, to be more specific…_Roy's_ gun's barrel.

_Roy…_

Riza gasped. Her eyes widened, and her stomach dislodged itself from its normal place of residence and wound up in her throat. She stared down at the useless thing by her feet, and she remembered…

_Roy!_

Twenty minutes…she was supposed to have gone after Roy once exactly twenty minutes had passed, but, hell…that damn fight with Sloth alone had taken more then ten! Plus, there was all that time she had spent _knocked out_…

"Damn it!"

Riza was never really one for cursing—at the very least, she sure as heck didn't have the potty mouth of her superior. But she cursed now-quite loudly, at that. She tried to tell herself that Roy would be strong enough to last on his own, at least for a while, but found herself unable to believe that, even for whatever small particles of comfort it would bring…

_How long was I unconscious?_ She wondered desperately. There was another, more persistent question also reverberating in her mind, masked in the first one's seeming innocence--

_How much time did I **waste**?_

She brought her arm up, the aches that action brought with it now the farthest thing from her mind, only to find that her watch was no longer around her wrist. It took her an extra four minutes of harried searching before she finally found the damn thing, lying by the curb in a puddle of water. Four more minutes, _wasted_…

She lifted the sopping wet article to her face, almost unwilling to see how late she was. At first, she wasn't sure if the watch was even working any more—there was a crack, as thin as a hair, running diagonally across the face, and the band itself was in shreds. However, when she held it against her ear, she was able to make out a faint ticking, and decided that, despite being seriously waterlogged, the timepiece was still functional. She glanced down at the dial…

Riza stared. The watch shook ever-so-slightly in her hands. She shook her head, once, twice, three times. No. No. No way in hell. The watch was broken after all—it _had_ to be. It had to be….there was no way that much time had gone by. There was no way that it had been that long since Roy had left. There was no way he had been gone that long…

There was no way he had been gone almost…an hour…

If their positions had been reversed, if it had been Roy clutching that watch, he might have been able to convince himself that it was all a lie, that the watch was broken and everything was ok. But not Riza…Riza didn't believe in denial…she knew the truth, the cold, sharp, acidic truth, all too well.

Roy had been gone an hour. Not only had she failed miserably in her part of the mission, but in all that time, he still hadn't come back…

She looked up, and then nearly laughed aloud in her bitterness. What was she doing? Did she really think that Roy Mustang was just going to waltz around the corner with that damn grin on his face? Did she really think he'd magically appear, smothered in a smug aura that at the same time was apologetic, because he knew he'd worried her? Of course not. Of course she didn't believe that vision would actually happen. But, at the same time, she knew she'd give anything just then for it to come true…

Roy had been gone an hour…

Riza dropped the watch, jumped to her feet, and took off running down the street. Her body's aches and pains, Sloth, the mission—all of these thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind. Even though it went against everything she'd ever been taught in the military, she forgot about the larger picture completely. (And this was so unlike Riza, it was almost scary, because normally she held a firm belief that the mission was more important then the soldiers carrying it out—for instance, she'd willingly and without hesitation sacrifice her own life so that Roy's goal of becoming president might come true. But…Roy had done something to her, changed her somehow, although she couldn't for the life of her figure out what or why. She didn't think she ever _would_ be able to figure it out, either.)

No, all the things that she would usually be focused on—all the things that she would label as more important then any individual person—were gone, buried somewhere deep, and she wasn't about to stop to dig them out. Through out it all, as she ran, there was only one thought that she would later on be able to recall—it would stand out crystal clear in her memory, as if it had been frozen in ice for all eternity. Only one thought, however irrational and unlike her it was…

The thought that if Roy died…then so would she.

* * *

The prison loomed menacingly in front of Riza. She wasn't sure if it was a good sign or bad that the building wasn't currently being devoured in flames. Carefully, she peered around the corner of the empty building she was hiding behind, but, as with everything else that had happened today, luck was against her. She wouldn't be able to walk—or even sneak—into the prison, not as long as it was being guarded. Now, if it was just a typical lackey guarding the only entrance she could see, Riza wouldn't have blinked—it would have taken her maybe, oh…say…five seconds? to take down the guard and move on. But when the guard in question was _Sloth_…weell…that's when things started getting a tad more difficult. 

Riza gritted her teeth in annoyance, trying to figure out what to do now. True, now that she knew where Sloth was, she didn't have to worry about being attacked from behind, but how could she get in the building with the homunculus right there? She couldn't climb over the wall surrounding the place, there was barbed wire stretched all along it. The only way in was through the courtyard—the same courtyard that Sloth was standing in front of with her arms crossed, expressionless.

_If Sloth is still guarding the entrance, then Roy is still in there…_she frowned. _I can't afford to waste any more time…I need to get in there, and if the only way in is past the homunculus, then… _

Riza stepped out from behind the building, in full sight of Sloth. She held in one hand her gun, even though she knew it would be useless. Sloth, sensing movement, looked up and over at her, and her empty face took on a slightly shocked expression.

"…You." There was only the faintest trace of surprise in the homunculus's voice; to look at her, it wouldn't seem that she was even interested, much less taken aback. "I thought you were dead…"

It was not a question, but a simple statement—she could have been mentioning the time of day for all the emotion in her voice.

Riza didn't answer. She pointed her gun at Sloth, who only raised an eyebrow.

"Fool…you already know that will do nothing." She shook her head slightly. "You really are a fool. You've come to assist Colonel Mustang?"

"Yes," was the simple reply.

A slight smile appeared on Sloth's face. "Idiot. I made the error of thinking you were dead—I will not make that mistake again. And yet, instead of fleeing when you had the chance, you choose to continue to try and aid your beleaguered colonel. What stupidity. You walk straight to your _death _when you could have your _life_."

Riza didn't blink. "No. Even if I had decided to walk away, I would not have had life. It isn't something a homunculus such as yourself could understand," she added coldly.

Sloth seemed amused. "Oh no?" She smiled. "Don't be so sure of that. You humans call it loyalty, correct? That your life should be so tightly wound around that of another…I fail to see how anyone could be so important."

_Of course you don't understand,_ Riza thought,_ you're not human. Your mind doesn't work the way a human's does. You couldn't understand…_

An image of Roy…

…_even if you tried._

"If someone dies, humans become soagitated…I hardly see the reason or the purpose. One day you'll die anyway, correct? So why even try? Why even bother attempting to live? I am immortal…" she said quietly. "I have life. I do not need to worry about growing old or ill and wasting away. Homunculi deserve this world, for the simple reason that we will not leave it."

Riza breathed in deeply. She refused to allow Sloth to rattle her; rather, she let the words wash over her without leaving a mark. _Let her talk…she doesn't understand. She isn't human._ Out loud, she answered: "It's easy enough to live when you know there is no death at the end to fight against. It takes more talent to live knowing that your time is not eternal. It seems to me that you are the least deserving of anyone to have what you want."

Sloth didn't say anything for a moment, and it might look to an outside observer that she hadn't even heard what Riza had said. But, there was something, some kind of weird vibe Riza was getting, that indicated the homunculus was getting rather pissed at the moment.

"Interesting…" the creature said slowly, "how the mind of a lapdog works."

"It shouldn't come as such a surprise, to you of all people," Riza shot back. Sloth frowned, looking visibly annoyed for the first time.

"Excuse me?" she asked icily. "I'm afraid I missed the implication."

"You're guarding the prison for King Bradley even now, correct?"

"Oh…really? So…that's what you think, is it…?" Sloth inexplicably began to laugh, quietly. "You honestly believe that I am the one taking orders from Pride? Well, it's nice to know that at the very least my deception has been a successful one."

"…." Riza looked hard at her. Now what…?

"I'll explain it to you, then, and alleviate your confusion," the homunculus chuckled. Somehow, though, even when she laughed her voice still managed to sound…dead.

"I suppose it's only natural that you think Pride is in command—he _is_ the ruler of this country. And if you were to ask him, he would certainly insist that he was the one in charge of everything. Unfortunately for him…he's wrong." She sighed. "He's far too in love with himself to be an effective ruler—after all, his name _is_ Pride. On the outside, it may look as if he is in control, but that's only because I made it look that way. Think about it, if you can. I am always there, behind him, just as you are always behind your Colonel Mustang." Her nose wrinkled with disdain. "However, unlike you, I wasn't simply there because of foolish reasons like petty romance. I am the one who gives him his information, who carries out his plans. Because of this, I can twist them to my own will whenever I feel the need. I can choose what to tell him, and what to…shall we say…'conveniently forget.'" Her lips turned upwards in a small, but still quite smug, smirk. "And once he's gotten his information, I 'advise' him on what to do. I don't give him orders, I simply drop hints on the ground, until he has no choice but to follow them like breadcrumbs."

Riza absorbed the new information without the slightest change in facial features, but, in actuality, her mind was racing.

_It's Sloth that has been pulling the strings the whole time? I have to tell the colonel…_her eyes widened. The colonel! For a second, listening to Sloth's monotone voice gloss over everything, she'd almost forgotten…of course, perhaps that was the homunculus's idea all along….

The Lieutenant clicked the safety off on her gun. Sloth just sighed.

"We've been over this, haven't we?"

Yes, they had…and they would keep going over it, again and again…and…and unless something had drastically changed from the last time Riza'd tried shooting at her, she was never going to reach Roy in time…

She survived the scene in front of her with rapidly-growing frustration, trying to find something that could work in her favor. Of course she couldn't find a thing. But, hey, no one ever said fighting super-strong, super-powerful, super-_immortal_ monsters was easy.

There was a loud _crack_ of thunder—the storm wasn't going to hold off for much longer. Riza looked back over at Sloth, whose features were starting to disappear in the gloom. The area was all leaning buildings and cracked concrete, so there was never much sun to begin with, but what with the clouds above being as thick as they were, everything was hidden in long lengths of shadow. The only reason she could see Sloth at all was because of the single street light behind her, its light a weak attempt to fight back the dark. The lamp post was leaning, the glass cracked—obviously it was a very old street light. Its dancing flames cast weird shadows over everything….and Riza found herself staring at the light, her attention caught up in the pale illuminations, realizing that maybe; just maybe…her situation wasn't as hopeless as she'd thought.

_I wonder…the older street lights were filled with oil, and that one certainly looks old enough to be one of them…_

The plan was forming rapidly in her head, but…there was one giant hole that she couldn't seem to work around. Namely, she wasn't an alchemist…and in order for this little idea to work, she kinda had to be one.

_It figures, _she thought wryly, _that in order to get inside that prison and reach the colonel, I need him out **here** in the first place!_

"My apologies for disturbing you…you do seem rather lost in thought…" Sloth's monotone broke through the air, and Riza frowned when she saw that the homunculus had turned her arm into water again. She was probably going to go for the same trick as before, so if Riza didn't come up with something now, it was over. Somehow, she didn't think Sloth would miss her target a second time.

And then, she remembered that she still held a gun in her hands…and the giant hole in her plan was filled, more or less. It would take a lot of skill, and a _lot_ of luck—and even then, Riza really didn't care to think about what the odds of success were. Still, it _was_ a strategy- the only one she had- and there was no point in putting it off. She just hoped her aim was as good as it usually was…

She aimed and fired, quickly, without focusing too long on the target. (It was a special talent of hers, to be able to shoot and hit something she'd only gotten a glance at, and the trick had only been honed further by the type of whirlwind fighting that took place on the Ishbalan battlefields.) She held her breath, praying that the bullet would be true to its mark…

The bullet missed Sloth by less then an inch.

Sloth raised an eyebrow as oil leaked out of the hole in the street light the bullet had created, a black puddle forming at her feet. Riza watched a few drops hit the homunculus herself, and had to close her eyes for a second to keep her expression in check.

_Interesting…_ Sloth, although she sure as hell didn't show it, had to admit she was rather taken aback. _It would seem that Colonel Mustang's loyal first lieutenant has reached her breaking point._ Was it really all that surprising, though? After all, she was only a human, and that was what humans—even the calm and collected ones—did when they did something stupid and as a result found themselves about to die—break. They lost their heads completely, cracked right down the middle. Humans really were the _lowest_ of the low.

The lieutenant was aiming her gun at her again, and she did her best to keep her disgust at the amount of time the fool was wasting off her face. "Be careful…you don't want to miss a second time."

Riza took her time with this shot, because in order for it to do what she needed it to do, she'd have to get the _exactly_ right angle—there wasn't any leeway this time around. "That would be hard to do," she responded calmly, "as I haven't missed a first time."

Sloth realized what was going on a second before it actually happened. Her head snapped down and she stared at the oil slick she was currently standing in the middle of. There was a bang, followed by a small _whooshing _noise as Riza's second shot skimmed almost _gracefully_ along the ground. Time seemed to stand still for a moment while they both waited to see if the bullet would create sparks as it nicked the ground…

It did.

Riza nodded slightly as she saw a handful of tiny little flares created when the bullet scratched the concrete. The mini-flames plunged—to Riza, it felt like everything was happening in goddamn _slow-mo_—towards the homunculus, who took a step back to avoid them. She didn't quite step back far enough, however…

With a loud roar, fire burst into being. Within seconds, it was an inferno, a circle of burning oil completely surrounding Sloth. She started to simply back through the flames, but the spots of oil soaked into her shirt were set ablaze before she could get through. The homunculus found herself burning away.

Riza watched the scene, fascinated despite herself. There was something thrilling, almost _mesmerizing_, about the vision in front of her, about the blinding glow that was in such contrast from the dark world around it. Sloth had resorted to turning parts of herself to water to quench the orange streaking up and down her body, but the hungry flames were burning so fierce and so fast that she was evaporating as quickly as she transformed. She was encased by now in a choking cloud of steam mixed with smoke. Her right arm turned into clear water, but even water will burn when there's oil floating on top, and the liquid turned right into moisture. Again, Sloth healed herself and her right arm reappeared in its liquid state, and again it evaporated; her entire body was caught in this morbid dance.

There was a huge burning puddle at her feet; perhaps it was then, as Sloth felt the flames licking away at her, knowing that even if she turned her entire body to water, she would still drizzle away, that she began to understand that her immortality was almost up. But even now, even facing something that a few minutes ago, she had sworn she would never see…she remained expressionless.

Riza, staring at the smoldering face, realized that she had been right all along in her assumptions about Sloth. The homunculus really _was_ dead within—there really _were_ no feelings inside what was essentially a useless container, a covering that only served to gather dust. Sloth was empty, and not even her own death could change that…

As her body evaporated away, as her healing powers became slower and slower, as she tried to douse the oil-induced flames only to have them flare up higher, Sloth quickly accepted what was by now, only a matter of time. There was only one thing that irritated her—that damn first lieutenant who had caused all of this in the first place. She had ruined everything, and now she was going to be able to walk away from it all unscathed!

….Or…Sloth's eyes widened slightly as something caught her eye…she turned from staring at the courtyard behind her, to staring at the wary lieutenant in front of her, whose gun was still drawn, just in case…heh…maybe she wouldn't be getting away unscathed after all…

The homunculus was hard put to contain her smirk. This was too perfect…this was almost worth death…almost.

Her healing powers were almost nil by now, and she knew her time was almost up. If she had not seen what she had just spotted, then perhaps she would be angrier, yelling, trying to drag Hawkeye with her. But, no…things would work out much better if she let the lieutenant find what she was looking for. It was just a shame that she would not be there to see the wonderful reaction the idiot was guaranteed to have.

There was a small tingling sound at her feet. Sloth looked down to see a red stone sitting in an oily, burning mess, winking up at her through the smoke. She slowly lifted her arm to her face—sure enough, her healing powers had stopped altogether. As she watched, her arm faded away and did not reform…_how ironic_, she thought, not without bitterness, _that fire should be able to conquer water_.

"Aah…aahgh…"

Small cries tore from her lips as she began to really feel the full effect of the flames. The air was thick with smoke, and with droplets of water peeling from her body. Her legs were beginning to collapse into steam. She had maybe a second left, maybe two…she tried to pick the stone up again, but it fell right through her glistening hand as her fingers evaporated. So, this was really how it would end…it was so damn annoying. Even Greed had a better death then this…the memory of yanking his stone out still brought a smile to her face. He, at least, had the honor of being killed by someone _worthwhile_…

"…How…." She spat, though lips that were almost not there, "…very…irritating…"

And she collapsed into a steaming puddle, dead. The stone lingered for a moment longer in the flames, and then crumbled to ash.

Riza stood very still for a moment. Was that it? Was it really over? She stared at the burning patch of ground. Nothing there now but fire, but small, rapidly-evaporating puddles of water topped off with a left-over oil slick. Her plan had worked perfectly, there was no way even Sloth could have survived that…and yet, it was so hard to believe it was really true…

Since Riza Hawkeye was a well-trained, professional soldier, she was hardly the type to get really emotional about her opponents. Still…secretly, she was just a _little_ pleased that Juliet Douglas was dead. Couldn't have happened to a more deserving person. Frankly, she wouldn't mind being able to savor the outcome of all this a bit longer.

But there was no time for personal revenge right now, so she pushed past her private thoughts and took off at a run for the prison, and for Roy.

* * *

As she took a step into the courtyard, another thunder clap went off over head, much louder now. A drop of rain hit her cheek, followed quickly by another, and another. In the space of five seconds, it was suddenly _pouring_. 

Riza rubbed water out of her eyes and squinted, trying to get a good view of her surroundings despite the deluge. There didn't seem to be much…the prison was directly in front of her, and on either side sat old, dirty buildings. Someone had thrown out what looked like a heap of rags in the corner, their color an identical brown in the rain, dye leaking off and turning the puddles around them a cloudy purplish color. It was raining so hard, and so fast, that already, there were little streams of water flowing past her feet. The pavement here was made out of cobblestones here, not cement, and muddy water trickled down between them, emptying out into rapidly-growing puddles.

_Splash_!

Riza wrinkled her nose as she stepped into a deepening puddle. Less then five minutes since it had started raining, and already the ground was starting to flood. This was some storm.

She looked around again, uneasy. It seemed too quiet…where were the sounds of battle that should have been coming from inside the prison? (Hah, like anyone could survive in battle against a homunculus for over an hour. Aint truth annoying sometimes?)

She paused underneath the dim glow of another street lamp, this one slightly newer. It wasn't an oil light, but an electric—it was still in crappy shape, though, and the light flickered on and off with every gust of wind. And there were a _lot_ of gusts of wind.

Nothing…there was nothing around but rain and wind, and Riza couldn't figure it out…was Roy still in the building? Was he still fighting?

There was a flash of lightning, and during that two second period of brightness, Riza happened to glance down at her feet, and her heart nearly stopped…

The quick glow quickly faded, and her heartbeat returned to normal. She took a deep breath, scolding herself mentally for being so jittery. How was she going to help the colonel if she couldn't keep her head?

Still, the image wouldn't leave her mind, so she looked back down to convince herself that she was just seeing things. Sure enough, the water at her feet was greasy purple—all the little streams had been contaminated by the dye running off the rag pile—just like the rest of the puddles. Honestly, it didn't say much for her if she was going to allow her imagination to run wild just like that….

The street lamp chose that moment to turn itself on. Riza felt her eyes lower themselves again, unwillingly, like she was being forced to look down. She stared. And stared. A scream built up in her throat, and it was only due to her strong self-control that it didn't escape. She stared…

The puddle she was standing in wasn't purple—none of them were. It had only looked that way because of the darkness. In the considerably brighter light coming off the street lamp, however, Riza could see quite clearly that the water was, in actuality…rusted red.

It was a muted, brownish shade, the same shade a piece of metal will turn if left in the rain. But Riza knew this wasn't rust…she knew, somehow, that it was blood…

Slowly, her eyes trailed the streams up towards their point of origin. The red was leaking from the rags in the corner….this time, however, with her eyes aided by the street light, she could make out something that she hadn't been able to see before. The rag heap was distinctly human shaped; sticking out at one end was the scratched and bruised skin of a human hand…

That was no bundle of rags.

That was Roy Mustang.

"_**Colonel**!_"

Riza was there in a flash, heart racing so quickly she felt dizzy. She sank to her knees by his side, her eyes growing huge at the gory sight before her. There was so much blood…

Hands trembling, she touched his shoulder.

"C-Colonel…? Sir?...Colonel! Colonel Mustang! _Sir!_!"

As gently as she could manage with her heart lodged in her throat, she turned him over. His head fell limply into her lap. Even in the semi-darkness where he lay, she could see that his face was very, very pale. His skin felt cold to the touch, his uniform was shredded across the chest, deep gashes lined his arms. His hair stuck to him with dried blood. He was soaked from head to toe in bloody water. But it was his face that scared her the most…

There was so much blood covering the left side of his face—much of it fresh—that Riza couldn't even see where the hell the actual wound was. It dripped everywhere…Riza felt moisture dampen her uniform, and knew without looking that the colonel's—_her_ colonel's—blood was staining her too.

She searched until she found a part of her uniform that was still relatively clean; ripping it off, she turned back to Roy, determined to stop the bleeding, to clean the wound, to…to do _something_. Dabbing lightly at the area of his face that looked the worse—right above his left eye—she wondered why on earth the skin should feel so weird beneath her fingertips. It felt very soft, very unlike how skin usually felt—plus, fresh blood kept pooling around her fingertips, and she couldn't see where it was coming from. The cloth in her hand became soaked through with vicious scarlet almost immediately, but at least it had somewhat served its purpose—she thought she might be able to make out the injury itself now. Sure enough, by studying closely, she was able to.

This time, she wasn't able to hold in her horrified cry.

_Oh my god! Oh no…oh my god!_

Now that she could see the wound a bit clearer, Riza could see why the skin had felt so strange to the touch--_the skin wasn't skin at all_. In actuality, what Riza had been trying to clean off was what was usually _underneath_ the skin—raw, naked flesh. The whole side of his face, from his eye down to his cheekbone, was the same way—ripped, bloody, stained sick crimson…destroyed.

Riza's throat closed. Her eyes welled up, but she didn't bother trying to hold the tears in this time around. She felt sick, sick to her stomach, to the very core of her existence. The words swirled around and around in her head—

_He's dead…_

She knew it as surely as she had known anything in her life. There was no way someone could survive that kind of injury. No way at all. He was dead. Her colonel, the man she had sworn to always protect—gone, lost, deceased. _Wasted_.

_I promised I'd go after him,_ she reminded herself, and the effect was the same as picking open a cut with a rusted nail. _I promised I'd protect him, and I promised I'd support him. _

"C-Colonel…"

The misery proved to be too much, and she shook him again, despite the fact that she knew it would serve no purpose. She clutched at his inert form, and she begged him to open his eyes, and she never once thought that he would listen.

And he didn't.

"Colonel!" Riza pleaded, calm composer much destroyed, "Colonel! Colonel Mustang, sir—wake up! Please, sir! You have to wake up! You-You cannot leave your men, sir! They need you! They need you to lead them! A-And….and me…" she whispered brokenly, "I need you too…"

The tears that had been threatening finally overwhelmed, and a rough sob tore at her throat. Riza wasn't sure any more whether the water on her face was from the rain or from her crying--and what's more, she didn't care.

"Colonel…" she implored tearfully, desperately, "please open your eyes…please wake up! You can't die, not yet! There is too much you still have to do! Ohh….I'm so sorry, Colonel…I should have been there to protect you…Colonel, please, **_please_** wake up!"

There was, of course, no answer…so Riza did something that she hadn't done for many, many years. She prayed. With her eyes shut and her arms wrapped around the body of her fallen colonel, she prayed.

_Don't make him suffer for my mistakes,_ she urged silently. _Don't take him away from me so soon._

She opened her swollen eyes again. There was no sign that her fervent prayer had been answered, or even heard in the first place. There was no change in Roy, either. All there was around her was rain, wind, crimson puddles…and the corpse of the man she loved lying slumped in her arms.

Riza bit her lip to keep back the cries, pressing so hard little droplets of blood appeared, and _still_ the sobs found their way out. Her entire body was shaking now, in her grief…she could feel the stirrings of something inside of her, something animalistic, something savage. Something she couldn't control. Something that would destroy her from the inside out…

"Colonel Mustang…Colonel…please…"-the name rushed out of her-"Roy…"

His first name felt strange, foreign, on her lips. "R-Roy…please open your eyes…please don't…don't leave me…_Roy_…"

The wind howled. The storm raged. Riza sat there in a pool of her colonel's blood and thought she would die.

* * *

Hughes, panting slightly, came flying into the courtyard, hair disheveled and glasses slightly askew. It had, in his personal opinion, been taking Roy _way_ too long over here, and he'd taken off at a gallop to find out what the hell was going on. He spotted Riza huddled in a corner and hurried over. 

"Hey! Hey, Hawkeye, what's—"

He skidded to a stop as his disbelieving eyes took in everything around him. Riza looked up at him, slowly. Her eyes were red, although she wasn't crying anymore. She heard Hughes's sharp intake of breath, but didn't say anything. There wasn't really anything to say.

"_Roy_…oh, man…" Hughes swallowed. "H-Hawkeye, is he…?"

Riza heard herself say, in a voice completely different from her own, "he's dead, sir," but didn't quite understand the words. Hughes slowly sank to his knees beside her. Like Riza, he was quick to accept things, and he didn't waste time asking her if she was sure or not. He just groaned.

"Damn it…oh, Jesus…_dammit_, Roy, you _idiot,_ I _told_ you it was a dumb idea," he mumbled to himself. "Why'd you have to….oh, god damn it!" His face dropped into his hands, and Riza wondered vaguely if he was crying. _That would certainly be a rare sight,_ she thought dully.

But Hughes, always thinking of others, even in a situation like this, lifted his head out of his hands and turned to her. His face was pale but steady. "Riza, I'm…"

Riza wasn't sure why he was apologizing to her when _he _was Roy's best friend. She knew that he was expecting her to cry, but frankly, she wasn't sure why. After all, it wasn't like this was _really_ Roy lying dead in her arms. It couldn't be. There was no way. (Having fought against it all her life, Riza failed to recognize the sickly sweet taste of denial when it bit.) The _real _Colonel Mustang would never go, not like this. After all, hadn't she heard him talk about the way he wanted to die a hundred times over, at _least_? He always said he either wanted to die in his sleep—a nice, peaceful death for a man ravaged by war—or caught in the middle of some heroic deed. He would _never_ allow himself to be taken out this way, Riza was sure. He would _never_ die like this, face down in a pool of his own blood. She couldn't picture him dying at all, really. The Roy Mustang she knew was brave, determined, and above all, _stubborn_—he would never give in. If this _was _really him, he was simply fooling around, and she only wished that he would open his eyes and prove it to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, who obviously didn't understand.

"Jesus…" Hughes said sadly, "Jesus. This…this is just…" His voice trailed off at the strange expression on the lieutenant's face.

"Yes sir," Riza answered without really listening. She had half a mind to slap Roy and tell him to knock it off. The joke was getting old. Besides, he had a lot of paperwork waiting for him back at Headquarters, and lying out here in the rain wouldn't get it done.

"Aw shit…" Havoc was there now too, apparently. She wasn't sure when he had shown up, but she really hoped Roy would wake up sooner rather then later. It was becoming quite tiring, being the only one there who knew his secret.

"I can't believe it," Havoc was saying now, shaking his head weakly. "I just never thought he would _die_, y'know? Damn…"

Riza sighed. She shook Roy, gently, of course, but enough to show him that she meant business. "Colonel Mustang, you had better waken up now." Havoc and Hughes stared at her, but she ignored them. "_Colonel_…"

No response. She shook her head, annoyed. "_Colonel_! Colonel Mustang!"

"…" Hughes bit his lip. "Riza, he's not….look…you said it yourself, remember? He's…"

Riza shook her head. "No. No." She saw the worried look Hughes shot Havoc, and felt the bottom of her stomach give way. "No. He can't be. I refuse to believe that he is…" Her eyes began to sting again. "He is _not_…!"

"Riza…"

Denial began to give way to stark terror. These were all new feelings for cool, calm, collected Riza Hawkeye, and she was afraid she might go mad with them. "But…Roy…the colonel…" She looked desperately at Hughes. "He…"

"I know." His voice shook slightly. "I know…"

Havoc muttered some foul curse and pulled out his cigarette lighter. He glared angrily at the polished silver, (if he flicked it now and the rain put the spark out, he could always flick again. Such a shame that trick didn't work for the Flame Alchemist, too.) and chucked it against the brick wall behind him. It hit the wall with a loud _clang_ that echoed crazily.

Roy's sodden body was beginning to feel heavy in Riza's arms. She felt trapped—the walls were closing in—there was nowhere she could turn to for relief—

And then, she did something that, in looking back, was the dumbest, most impulsive thing she could have done. It was so pointless and pathetic, that Riza would later wish Hughes and Havoc hadn't been there, so that they wouldn't have seen her do it. She would be shocked with herself for the rest of her life, that she had actually done something so unlike her in every way. But here and now, sitting in the pouring rain, she didn't have the foresight to reason herself out of doing it, and so she went through with this stupid, _stupid_ little idea of hers.

She leaned down, and lightly, very lightly, brushed her lips against Roy's blood smeared forehead…

"Roy," she whispered, "Roy…you have to wake up…because I…I need you to….because I don't know what I'll do if you don't…"

It was the closest she could come to saying that she loved him.

Hughes and Havoc were silent beside her as she straightened up, eyes still trained on Roy, and waited.

And….

And absolutely nothing happened.

Of course. Riza was too miserable to know that she shouldn't have been surprised. Of course. What had she expected? Had she really, honestly thought that Roy would just _magically_ open his eyes and grin at her simply because she _kissed_ him? Did she really think that her sad little profession of love—far too little, far too late—would change _anything_, _ever_? Looks like she'd read one too many of those crappy romance novels she liked so much—that was the kind of ending she seemed to have been hoping for. Which was dumb, obviously, because those kinds of happy-ever-after endings happened in _books_, not in real life. Sloth had been right. What a sad little fool she was.

"Come on, Riza…" Hughes said softly. "Come on, let's just…" He didn't know what to say. He didn't have a clue.

Riza ignored him, and jerked away from the human contact when he tried to pull her away from the body. Her mine was made up. She had failed her colonel here on earth, but maybe God would give her a second chance in heaven. Surely even there, a man like Roy Mustang needed a bodyguard. He was awfully prone to getting himself into trouble, after all.

_I promised I'd always protect you,_ she thought fiercely, _and I will. No matter what I have to do, Roy, I **will** protect you. Always. _

Hughes tried to get her to stand up again, but she resisted, resting her head against the colonel's chest. Didn't he understand? She didn't want to get up, not now, not ever. She didn't want to move on. She simply wanted to lie there, the rain drifting against her face, with her head alongside Roy, feeling the slight, soothing motion of his chest slowly moving up and down against her cheek…

……

Wait….

Uh.

…Since when did dead bodies breathe?

Her head jerked up so fast it was surprising she didn't get whiplash. She stared at Roy in shock for a moment or two, trying to register everything. Her fingers flew into action, fumbling for his wrist. She pressed two fingers against the pale underside of his arm, and waited with bated breath…for a second, she couldn't feel a thing….but then…

A pulse. Faint, weak, and haphazard….but a pulse none the less.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" He looked up at her in surprise. "Call an ambulance! Hurry!"

"But..." He stared at her, confused. "Hawkeye, why would-?"

"The colonel's still alive!"

"Are you _serious?_?"

"Lieutenant Colonel, please, we don't have time. We need to get him to a hospital now!"

"Oh--! Of course!" Hughes jumped up. "Havoc!" he barked. "Get in touch with Fury and tell him to send an ambulance pronto!"

"Yes sir!"

"Ok, ok…" Maes's mind was racing, leaping from one thing to the next like an acrobat. "Ok…someone'll have to see if Pride's still alive-if he isn't, then we'll have to prepare for some major changes in the near future--better be careful about Mustang, though, he'd be a sitting duck in a hospital bed--we should get him outta the rain, Riza."

Riza nodded, but turned down the lieutenant colonel's offer to take him into one of the buildings. "I can carry him, sir."

She slowly and carefully adjusted Roy so that she'd have a better grip on him. As if he was trying to reassure everyone that he really _was_ still alive, he moaned softly.

"It's ok…" Riza murmured softly, trying to comfort him. "I'm here, Colonel…I'm here…"

And, although it shouldn't have been possible for an unconscious Roy to hear her, maybe—somehow—he did, because he stopped fidgeting, lying still in her arms. Riza suppressed a small smile, her face taking on a determined air.

_It's ok, Colonel…Roy…I'm right here. I won't leave you. I'll protect you…_

And this time, she swore, it was a promise she was going to keep.

* * *

AN- whee! finally, some happiness! an i hadja all worried, didnt i?will it last? eh, who knows!XD heh. one thing about Sloth--to me, it always seemed like she was the one who should be in charge, not Pride--dunno why. so whether that's actually right or not, i just felt it fit. many apologes for the typical 'bad-guy-take-over-the-world-plan-rant' she goes into, but like i said, writer's block equals GR! ahem. i debated over Riza just coming right out with the i love yous, but decided that was too ooc for her. she still is pretty off, i guess, but hey. tramatic situations make people act diffrently...right? right. works for me, anyway. XD 

**darkfire19-** well, she wasnt actually dead, so you dont have to accept that! hee..

**unexpectation-** aaah! you ARE my stalker, memory loss and all! lol, just kiddin! thanks 4 the review, as always!

**Princess Krystal01-** aah, sorry! but, hey, everything worked out, right?

**flOofymikO-** kyaa...saying thank you wouldnt even BEGIN to cover it! but, bleh, this fic aint perfict! the earlier chapter make me twinge they're so bad. and this last chapter didnt come out at ALL as i'd planned it. besides, your story **is**amazing! the writing style's unique and the humor side to it isnt something i'm exactly capable of myself.


	19. Chapter 18

AN- **flOofymikO-** yeesh, it'd be AWSOME if this could actually be published. (isnt that the deal with that FMA novel that's out?) but, sadly, those dang copywrite laws get in the way Xd. ah well. mucho thanks as always!

**unexpectation-** LMAO. yes, that's exactly how Sloth seems to me too. Pride just doesnt seem...idn...smart enough? to be a good mastermind.

**rexbandit-** mm...mush, huh? I'm not really a good fluff writer, but the last chapter is more light-hearted...i think. lol. you're right, tho...royai mush DOES make the world go round!

**tracycoder-** welcome! lol, dont worry, i'm not thaaat cruel as to kill everyone off...usually...ahem.

**xXsilentxwhisperXx-** good point about Hughes, but i simply could NEVER kill him off--i love him too much. plus, in my personal opinion, roy has enough on his plate in this story! lol. thanx for the review! (my god, you read this entire thing in ONE sitting?...even i cant do that!)

whoo! about half way through this, i counted how many ms pages it was so far and came up with ten...and like i said, i was only half way through! so, i split it up again--so now there are three more chapters left, instead of two! yay! lol. the next one literally starts FIVE SECONDS after this one ends, but no one cares. either way, i'm trying to come up with another royai story idea for after this one ends, perferrably a sequal to this. i have a few vague ideas so far, but nothing really concreat...-.- o well.

cliche' title, but i had to change the original one when i split it up, and that's all i could come up with.

**reviews are loved!

* * *

Life After Death **

Or

**Painkillers in Purgatory**

Roy Mustang was having a nightmare.

The usual one, as always. Trapped in the same burning city, with the same body by his feet, with the same desperate thoughts rampaging through his mind, he grabbed the same gun and waited for the same outcome. He always woke up right about now, he knew, so all he had to do was sit and linger in his agony for something to jar him awake…

Except…the dream wasn't working out that way, not this time. Instead of waking up, he remained stuck in that hellhole. The fires kept burning behind him, the smoke kept wafting into his face, the not-so-distant crackling noise of gunfire kept going off…he waited and waited, anxiously, but he simply could not snap himself out of this. Confused and frightened thoughts ran through his mind—was it not a dream this time? Was it real, somehow? Maybe he was in hell? Maybe he had lost his mind once and for all.

Well, whatever the case was, this nightmare wasn't turning out like the others before it, and Roy didn't like that one bit. He got to his feet, where he wobbled, unable to keep himself steady. Fresh pain dug into him with every beat of his heart. He was shaking, and his mouth was so dry it felt like he was swallowing cotton.

Suddenly he realized that the world around him had changed. Instead of being in a crumbled city with death pouring out of every crevice, he was…nowhere. At least not that he could see. Everything was pure darkness, darkness so thick that it was almost _solid_—if he reached out far enough, he was certain he could grab it. He looked down, and discovered that there was only black under his feet, too. He was floating in this strange place, alone. Every now and then, a light breeze would float by and rustle his hair, but that was it.

Roy became aware, just then, of a peculiar stickiness on his hands, which were suddenly ungloved. He looked down to find them drenched in blood. (Whose blood it was, was anybody's guess, but Roy had his suspicions.) How ironic…here he was, in this emptiness that very well might be the entryway to what lay after death, unarmed and with his sins splayed out on his hands for everyone to see. Not that there was anyone here to see them.

But, he supposed that was the point, after all. If this was indeed his personal Judgment Day (and what else could it be?) then shouldn't that be how it worked? All your barriers and reasonings and ignorances taken away—your excuses stripped bare—nothing but your soul left to be dealt with. Roy figured that the blood covering his hands was a metaphor for all the crimes he'd committed over the years…from the looks of things, there were quite a few of them. But he'd always known that. He wondered again, distantly, if this meant he was really dead. Certainly seemed like it, anyway.

There had been an indistinct burning spreading up and down his legs for some time now, but he'd ignored it because he was used to worse. But now, the pain began to rage, shooting up his entire body until he could barely breathe. Gasping, Roy fell to his knees (as best he could, considering there was no ground to fall on). It felt like he was being burned alive himself, the throbbing was so intense, and, had he been able to focus clearly, he would have laughed at the added irony of the Flame Alchemist burning in hell.

Deep groans swelled up inside of him…shaking, he wrapped his arms around himself to try and starve off the pain, his fingernails digging into his flesh. The agony increased, lowered a bit, and shot up again in a never-ending cycle…one second down, an eternity of seconds to go…if time ever passed in this place, if there even _was_ such a concept as time in the afterlife.

Roy's thoughts were becoming very twisted and confused….fading away….all of them…everything that could take his mind off his suffering for even a moment was being leeched away. He couldn't hide it, couldn't avoid it, couldn't ignore it…

"_Colonel…"_

What was that? Roy jerked his head up, forgetting for a spilt second that he was trembling with pain. He looked around frantically…but there was nothing, just endless black.

_But…someone was there…_

He paused, uncertain. He tried climbing to his feet, but his body had long ago reached its limits, and refused to move an inch.

_Forget it…even if someone was here…what could they do? What could anyone do?_

Roy knew, if this really was his death, what he was _supposed_ to do. He was _supposed_ to fight it, 'run away from the light', all that crap. That's what people in books and movies always did—fought their asses off, sweated a bit, and woke up, perfectly fine, at the most dramatic moment. Roy, like so many other people, had always envisioned himself doing the same—after all, those people made it look so _easy_. Struggle for five seconds, preferably with some uplifting music in the background, and boom! You were alive and well.

Only, those books and movies left out a very important detail…it was so _exhausting_.

_God, I'm tired…_

Roy tried to fight it, he really did, but he was just so _tired_…he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a really good, deep sleep, and finally—_finally—_he was being given a chance to close his eyes and just…_rest_…

"_Colonel…"_

There it was again…that soft voice, coming from right beside him, it seemed, even though there was no one there. And yet…when Roy looked, it almost felt like there _was _someone standing next to him. He stretched one arm out and felt only air, but still…

He blinked, shrugged, closed his eyes…

"_Roy!"_

Ok, now it was just getting annoying. Whoever that was, couldn't they see that he was _busy_?

"_Roy…Roy…please…"_

He felt something light and soft gently touch his forehead for a minute. That did it. Roy was too confused to sleep. Grunting with the effort it took, he forced himself to his feet—

And opened his eyes.

* * *

The first thing that hit Roy as he groggily came to was the smell. It was sharp but sweet, and it seemed to permeate the whole area. Not to mention, it was strangely familiar, too…he couldn't help but think that he had smelled it before. He breathed in deeply, or at least attempted to—his lungs instantly rebelled, deep, racking coughs tearing through him. Okay…bad idea. 

He closed his eyes again, focusing mainly on breathing. It came to him, at one point or another, that the bed he was lying in had to be the softest, most _comfortable_ bed he'd ever slept on. He wondered dimly where the heck he was…

After a few minutes of resting, he once again opened his eyes—and realized instantly that only his right eye was working. He wasn't sure why he couldn't see out of his left, but it was definitely an unsettling discovery to say the least, and he swallowed hard. Another bad idea—it felt like he was swallowing glass. God, he was a mess.

He tried to sit up, but, as expected, the slightest movement was pure torture. Looked like he'd just have to be content with lying there, for now. Speaking of lying there…where _was _there, anyway?

Turning his head as little as possible to prevent further discomfort, he glanced around, slowly. He didn't recognize it at first glance, but, for some reason, he still didn't feel all disoriented and confused. This felt….nice…

It felt like he belonged here, in some weird way. Maybe it was the décor.

Everything was pretty simply decorated—besides the bed itself, the room held only a small end table and chair (both of which were by the bed) and a dresser, pushed over against the wall by two closed closet doors. On his other side, there was a window, bright sunlight streaming in. Everything felt very airy and spacious; the room was very neat, although not obsessively so, and, as always, there was that smell wafting through every nook and cranny…

It really was pleasant, that was for sure…if Roy hadn't been so damn confused—not to mention in serious pain—he probably would have enjoyed himself.

Lying back again, he tried to figure out how he had come to be in this enjoyable situation. It wasn't easy—his mind was still very foggy, and he was having trouble focusing. His thoughts kept drifting around in circles, it seemed—his head hurt so much, he thought it might split open in a second. Every now and then a wave of pure dizziness would hit him, last just long enough to make him certain he was going to black out, and then drift away, leaving him faint-headed, shaking, and sick to his stomach. And to top it all off, there was a _gigantic_ hole in his memories.

_Let's see…_he tried to think back. He'd been fighting someone…the president? Was that it? And he'd gotten really mad over something horrible….what, he couldn't recall, but whatever it was had to be pretty damn devastating—he couldn't even remember what had happened, and still he felt angry tears prick his eyes. Roy quickly blinked them away, though, furiously—this was _ridiculous._ Why was he getting so emotional? Obviously whatever had happened couldn't have been very important if he couldn't even remember it! He frowned…what was it his mind wouldn't let him think about?

For a minute, he felt like he was beginning to remember, but the effect of the small scrap of memory scared him. It was like drowning…just one tiny shred, and he couldn't breathe…

Not wanting to linger on something that was guaranteed to be a bad recollection, he hurriedly moved on. _Ok, after…I finished fighting Pride—what then? I….I think I made it outside, and then I…I…_

It was no good. He simply could not remember. _That must have been when I passed out,_ he figured. _But…where am I now? I must have died, I mean…I remember getting stabbed, so…but this doesn't look like hell to me…_

No…it really didn't. Where he'd been before, in that inky and endless nothing—_that_ looked like hell. This tidy little room was more like…

_Heaven? Is that even possible? _

Roy bit his lip in confusion. This sunny bedroom was certainty _nice_ enough to be paradise, but…but there was no way he would have been _sent_ there. He…he was Roy Mustang after all, wasn't he? A filthy murderer, with blood on his hands. What God with any brains would allow a man like _him_ to go to heaven? Besides, he hurt too much for it to be heaven. There literally wasn't a single part of him not burning, throbbing, aching, or doing an agonizing combination of the three.

_But…this can't be hell. The pain's bearable and it's so…there's no way…_

An idea came to him, and he rolled his eyes—make that eye, since he had no idea if the left one was obeying him whatsoever anymore. _Heh…maybe this is Purgatory._

Yeah…that's probably where he was. Purgatory. Huh…not a bad place. He wouldn't mind chilling out here for a while.

Still…

There was a very weird, unsettling quality about the whole thing that Roy was just now noticing. Sure, it was nice and comfortable and all, but, even so…lying in here, he was struck suddenly by the strangest sensation…he realized that…well…to be perfectly honest…he was rather lonely. And it wasn't because he was the only one there, but because something about the place suggested friendship, companionship…it brought back emotions he couldn't quite place, but that he remembered liking…there was a feeling as if he had once had something very vital that was tied to this room, but that he had misplaced it, lost it, because of his own blind stupidity.…

It didn't make much sense, but Roy knew somehow that the stark, miserably forlorn quality hanging about the place had to do with that incident he couldn't call to mind…he had screwed something up, mislaid something important, and the price must have been so terrible that his mind refused to process it.

_But, hey,_ he laughed bitterly, _this isn't heaven, it's purgatory. If you wanted some peace of mind after you died, you shouldn't have been such a royal screw-up in life._

His eyes fell on the end table next to the bed. It was the only thing in the room that was at all cluttered. There were at least three small bottles, a half-full glass of water, and a note pad. By straining to the utmost of his current abilities, Roy could just make out the words '_Pain Relievers: every five hours, as needed. Fever Reducers: every five hours, as needed. Take with water or…'_ before his shaky vision gave way. The words had been written on the note pad in a steady, neat style of handwriting that Roy was certain he'd seen before. Weird…it actually looked like someone had copied down instructions from a doctor or something, but if he was already dead, then what exactly was the point in calling a _doctor_? That didn't even make sense! Doctors in the afterlife! Since when were there painkillers in purgatory!

Roy sighed. It figured. He couldn't even _die_ the right way.

Then…he heard footsteps. His eyes shot towards the door, which was closed. No doubt about it…whoever it was, was definitely coming this way. He couldn't help but wonder why it was that his stomach should clench so painfully all of a sudden. Why was his heart suddenly racing? What did it know that his brain did not? What, did he expect the _devil_ to walk through that door? _Heh, the way things have been going, anything's possible…_

The door opened.

Riza Hawkeye walked in.

Roy knew instantly that he was in heaven.

_

* * *

It…it can't be….**Riza**!_? 

He was smashed just then with another wave of nausea, and he closed his eyes against the agony with a slight grunt. His mouth had gone completely dry, and his heart's racing a mile a minute didn't help his wooziness one bit. But he couldn't help it…_Riza_ was there…

_How…how is this possible?_ he thought brokenly. He could hear her walking over to him, and he could feel himself trembling as the memory finally came swimming up. Of course…how the hell could he have forgotten? Riza…she'd died. Because of him. It was his fault. He'd lost her. Of course, of course, of course. And yet…here she was…

All doubts were washed from his mind. He really_ was_ dead, and, one way or another, he really _was_ in heaven. Where else could he be? The idea of Riza in hell was enough to make him laugh, and he couldn't be alive, not when she was…

Screw all the rules he'd figured applied to this sort of thing. Maybe people _did_ feel pain in paradise, after all. Maybe there'd been some kind of technical fuck-up that had gotten him in _here_ instead of hell. It didn't matter. The point was, Roy was being granted a chance to spend all of long infinity…with _her. _

He opened his eyes just enough to make out her form, not wanting her to notice that he was awake. (He had this strange fear that if she saw him, if she actually _said_ something to him, if he was given the chance to hear he voice again, the incredulous joy would be too much, and whoever had accidentally sent him here would notice and throw him back down where he belonged. Roy knew that to miss out on this second chance would be a hell of its own, never mind the fire and brimstone one lurking below.) Her figure was blurry and distorted, (for the first time, he was aware not only of his splitting headache, but of the fact that he was sweating up a storm), but he could still make her out ok.

He studied her carefully, unable to believe that she was really here, next to him. There was just something so surreal, so _dreamlike_, about this whole thing.

Of course, the fact that her hair was down might have had something to do with it.

Roy had never—excluding his perverted fantasies, of course—seen his first lieutenant with her hair down before. It looked exactly like he had imagined it would- hot. Really hot. A perfect image…dazzling long strands falling in ripples down her back. He felt his face flush, and wondered how high the level of her beauty had to be to make _him_ blush. (He had no way of knowing, after all, that his fever was at the moment spiking up around 103 degrees, and so he blamed the heat on his raging and confused emotions. He really wasn't _that_ far off. Even when half-dead, Roy…was a pervert.)

Riza was rummaging around, pouring out what looked like a year's supply of pills from the various bottles. Roy couldn't really make out her expression, but he did note that there was a definite stiffness to her posture—if she wasn't trying to unscrew a pill cap, he knew she'd be clenching her fists.

After removing the cap and shaking out three small blue capsules, Riza turned to look at him. He felt his pulse quicken, but at the same time, discovered that being in heaven did not prevent one from feeling guilty. Her eyes, now that he could see them, looked so worried—

Wait.

Wait.

What was she doing?

Her hand was brushing up against Roy's forehead- it lingered for a moment, cool against his fevered skin. He couldn't believe how wonderful even that slightest of touches felt…swallowing, he marveled in the comfort of something he thought he'd never have. It simply became too much, though—he _had_ to do something, to get the pressure off his chest, to calm his throbbing heart. He opened his eyes, but too quickly—the world exploded in a garish pattern of color, and he was afraid he'd puke. He couldn't help but moan slightly.

"Colonel!" he heard Riza gasp, as if from far away. "You're awake! I-I didn't realize…" She withdrew her hand, her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and worry. "How are you feeling, sir?"

_Oh…come on…even in heaven, she has to be so damn **formal**…_Roy thought drowsily.

"Colonel? Can you hear me?"

_Uh-huh…_Roy wanted to tell her that he was feeling like total shit, but his vocal cords weren't working right. Plus, he wasn't sure what would come out if he did manage to open his mouth—words, or vomit.

"You're running a fever…" She was talking mostly to herself by now. "I'm very sorry, Colonel, I know you must be in severe pain, but I can't give you any more pain medication for another hour…" She picked up one of the blue pills. "You'll need another one of these, though, if that fever is ever going to come down…"

"Medicine in heaven…" Roy mumbled. "Weird."

"Sir?" Riza looked at him in concern. "Colonel Mustang, can you hear me?" she repeated. "How are you feeling?"

"…Like hell," he managed after a second, and it was worth the serious effort it took him to speak when he saw the relieved smile blossom on her face.

"I-I know, sir, I'm sorry…I'll give you another dose of pain killers as soon as I can, I promise."

"..Mmm…" How nice it was to hear her voice again…

"Sir?" Riza must have noticed he was zoning out again. "Sir, I'm sorry, I know how badly you must feel, but you have to take your medicine before you fall back asleep. Otherwise…"

"…Heh…" Roy laughed weakly. "R-Relax, H-Hawkeye…you act like I could die or something—" His words were broken off by a series of racking coughs that went on and on. When they finally stopped, Roy was left panting for breath, his chest on fire.

"Colonel…" Riza looked so remorseful, it was almost scary.

"'s'ok, H-Hawkeye," he groaned. "It-It'll stop soon…right? How long do-does it usually take for the….pain to fade, eh…?"

"…Sir…?" Riza was staring at him with blatant confusion in her eyes.

"I…guess the p-paradise part of…paradise is kinda...different then everyone always assumed, huh?" He smiled slightly. "It's…nice here, though." He yawned tiredly. "Oh…yeah, I…I have-have to tell you something…"

"Colonel, please, just rest." He was trying to sit up, so Riza moved to push him back down against the pillow. "Whatever it is, it can wait until after you have your strength back—"

"N-No!" Exhausted, Roy was forced to give up his endeavor to sit up, and he collapsed back down, his eyes still blazing with intensity. "No. I have….have to tell you th-this…"

"C-Colonel…"

"I'm…sorry…sorry I…sent you here….Riza."

He closed his eyes, wiped out. After a few seconds, his ragged breathing became a bit more regular, and Riza knew he'd fallen asleep again. She stared at his still-bruised (but hardly less handsome) face, even more worried then she had been. She was thrilled that he'd finally awoken, of course, but it was painfully obvious from the nonsense he'd been spouting that the colonel was still delirious—for the life of her, she couldn't get that damn fever down. She rubbed her eyes, exhausted herself. How much more of this would she be forced to suffer through?

"_I'm…sorry I…sent you here….Riza."_

What had he meant by that, anyway? And…her eyes widened slightly as she realized Roy had used her first name.

* * *

When Roy's eyes flickered back open an hour or so later, he immediately noticed that he wasn't alone. Riza was still there, sitting in the chair, whispering to something. It took him a minute to notice Black Hayate whining at her feet. 

"Not now," Riza was whispering firmly, "you'll disturb the Colonel. Go on, you know you're not supposed to be in here right now."

Even as Roy watched the dog pad out of the room, he was aware of Riza sighing. He frowned in confusion—if this was heaven, why did she look so…unhappy? And what on earth was her _dog _doing here?

He coughed a few times—Riza was on her feet in an instant. He tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry, and he couldn't get the words out. Riza picked up the glass of water—which had been refilled since he'd last seen it—and kneeled down by his bedside.

"Here, sir, see if you can drink this." She repositioned herself, sliding her arm underneath his head to help him sit up enough to drink without choking. Roy drank greedily, but the sensation of the water hitting his stomach was not a pleasant one, and he winced.

"Careful, try not to drink too fast. You haven't had anything in your stomach for a while."

"Nngh…" Roy fell back against the pillow, breathing hard. "R-Riza…you're still here…"

"Of course, sir," she answered quietly. "Where else would I be?"

"I d-don't know…" He managed a grin. "I th-thought this might…have all just been a…mistake, you know? I mean…I r-really don't belong here…"

Riza paused, giving him a strange look. "…Then where _do_ you belong, sir?"

"Oh…oh, you know…" He winced again as his head stepped up its pounding. "Anywhere but here. With…with everything I've done…heh, I'm just…just saying it's pretty…weird…that I got in here...in heaven…at all."

"Sir…" Riza looked confused. Very confused. "You, ah…you're not _in_ heaven."

Roy paused. "B-But…then where am I…?" He chuckled hoarsely. "M-Man…if this is…is hell, then, damn…I wasted a lot of time…worrying about it…"

Riza shook her head. "Colonel Mustang…" she said slowly, "you're not—"

"N-No…" he sighed. "Don't worry…worry about it. I'm ok with it, wherever I am…I just…it's great to…to s-see you again, but I still wish you weren't—"

"Colonel!" Riza interrupted, eyebrows raised. "I'm…afraid you're mistaken, sir."

"Mistaken…? H-How?"

"You…Colonel, you're…not dead."

She had to bite back a smile at the expression that filled his face.

"N-Not…?" Roy sat up, setting off sharp flares of pain. Riza let out a small gasp of alarm.

"Sir, what are you—please, you have to lie down, you're not strong enough to—"

"I-Impossible," he breathed as if he couldn't even hear her. "Impossible! I…I have to be…I have to be…!"

"Please, just lie down, sir." Riza gently forced him to lie back. "You're delirious, that's why everything must seem so strange to you right now. Just get some sleep…"

"N-No…!" he protested feebly. "Y-You don't understand! There's no way I could still be alive! T-There's…there's no way!"

Riza smiled slightly. "I assure you, Colonel, you're very much alive. Your wounds _were_ very severe, but fortunately—"

"That's not…what I'm talking about!" he cried weakly.

"Colonel Mustang, you cannot afford to get so excited right now, you'll do serious damage to yourself. Everything's ok…you're safe now. You can relax."

"Damn it!" Roy knew he was getting hysterical, but hey, was he actually supposed to _believe_ that he was alive? That he was alive, and, therefore, that Riza was--no. No, there was no way—he wasn't going to fall for that. He wouldn't swallow that hopeful lie. He wouldn't swallow it…because if he did, he'd only have a nice rude awakening later on. It wasn't _worth_ it. "I d-don't care about…Riza, you…!"

She was silent now, looking at him uncertainly, so he barged on ahead.

"You don't under-understand, Riza. I…I can't still be alive, b-because if I _am_, then…then what the hell does that make you!"

"Sir, I…I'm not sure what you mean…"

"You died," he said flatly. Amazing, wasn't it, how much it hurt to say that, even now. "You died, and you're here. So, tell me, how…am I supposed to be alive if you're here? What are _you_ if that's the…if that's the case, huh? A fucking angel? Not like that's not ex…tremly plausible, but…you…"

"Colonel…" she stopped for a second, as if not sure how to say what she wanted to. "Colonel, I, ah…I'm afraid you're a bit…a bit confused, I—"

"H-Hell yes, I'm confused!" Roy was getting too wound up; the room started to tilt and he closed his eyes, chest heaving. "I…I…" The smell blanketing the room was even sharper now- now it was smothering, a syrupy sweet odor. In his desperate confusion, he could feel the back of his eyes being pricked again, and he didn't like it. Forcing his eyes open against his collapse, he stared anxiously at Riza, at the one person he knew he shouldn't be seeing, even as he rejoiced at seeing her. "I know that you…you died…y-you were…were killed by a homunculus, and I…I let it happen…I got you involved, and I let it happen…"

Riza stood up, dropping the glass of water back on the end table with a _thunk_. From the outside, she looked serious enough—true, it was a cover for what she was _really_ feeling at the sight of her colonel's distress (something she'd certainly never wanted to see), but Roy couldn't be expected to know that. All he saw was her frown.

"First of all, Colonel," she said sternly, "you didn't 'get me involved'. I involved myself back in Ishbal, and it wouldn't make much sense for me to just back out now. Second of all"- a bit of a gentle smile appeared on her face, and she once again pushed his straining form back down against the bed- "I was never killed by a homunculus. Delayed…not killed."

"But…you never came…the prison…you never came…"

It was like someone had flipped a switch—Riza went from smiling slightly to staring down at her clenched hands with guilt etched across her face.

"I…I know, sir…" she whispered. "I'm…very sorry, I…" She looked back up at him, and Roy searched for something besides sadness in her eyes. He couldn't find anything. "I know you were counting on me to back you up—I tried to reach the prison in time, but when Sloth attacked, I was unable to…I went as soon as I could—" She paused, and her voice hardened noticeably. "I have no excuse, Colonel. I was supposed to carry out my part of the mission, and I failed. I will accept any punishment you deem fit."

"P-Punishment…?" Roy took a deep breath. "L-Lieutenant Hawkeye…you m-mean to tell me that you were _not_ killed by that homunculus? That, not only did you survive, but that even…even after being attacked, you rushed right into _another_ potentially dangerous situation without hesi--hesitation? It never…crossed your mind to go and get your…your own wounds treated?"

Riza looked puzzled. "I wasn't severely injured, sir, only momentarily knocked unconscious—"

"You were _knocked out_, and you still came! L-Lieu…Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir…" She nodded slowly.

"So. I-I'm still alive…_y-you're_ still alive…and the…only reason I'm here is because…because you came after me when any normal soldier would have backed off without a…a thought…and you think you d-deserve _punishment?_!"

"Sir, I—"

"Jesus Christ, Hawkeye. Jesus Christ…" Roy was speechless. Utterly and completely speechless. Riza wasn't exactly sure what to say herself. She started to mention some meaningless thing about him resting, but found herself rather distracted when Roy grabbed her wrist.

"C-Colonel?_"_

"I can't believe it…" he whispered, tightening his grip on her arm. Right now, he just had to feel the touch of her skin, the strong beat of her pulse, to believe that she was really there, that it really wasn't some sick joke or product of wishful thinking. "I can't believe it…"

Riza flushed. Hesitantly--although she was pretty sure it broke every code of conduct currently written--she couldn't help but bring her other hand over his. He closed his eyes, relishing in the contact, and for a few minutes, that's just how it was—the colonel and the first lieutenant, together, quietly. And although nothing was said _out_ _loud_…it was still the most meaningful conversation either one of them had ever had

* * *

AN- okdoky then. anyone know a good site for finding cute royai pictures? i havent been able to find much of anything. i was so desperet, i even googled the show...-.-;...word of advice...NEVER google for images-specially anime ones-without the saftey search on. it's not pretty. and i'm not sure it's legal, either, what you see. :sigh:. so, anyway, e-mail/im/whatever me with any good sites, if you know any. i'm just tired of looking, and if i see one more royxed...lol. no offence, royxed fans, but that paring just...gr...i dislike it. alot. or maybe i'm just jelous that there's so many pics for that, and so little for royxriza. yeah, that's probably it XD; 

review! i'm so close, yet so far to the 100 mark!


	20. Chapter 19

AN-** tracycoder--** hm, it doesnt look like the link came through. me thinks thats another annoying quirk this site has, along with EATING my damn exclamation points...:grumblegrumble:

**rexbandit-** ooo yes, e-mail me the pics pleeze! (email's in my profile, of course.) thanks!

**shizu-chan--**fanart, i suppose, if only 'cause i havent yet seen the last few episodes, and i dont want to ruin any more of the ep for myself! thanks a bunch for the review!

**floOfymikO-- **whoo, it was SO great actually talking to you the other day!

**unexpection--** i think...i spelled it right this time :gasp: lol, please dont take offense, i have actually spelled my own name wrong on many an occasion ;;. oh, and by the way, i was reading your latest fic, (which i need to remind myself to review) and just happened to see the A/N at the bottom, and...how to put this...HOLY CRAP THANKS SO MUCH! was NOT expecting to see free advertisment, lol!

ARGH. from now on, when i say how many chapters i have left, ignore me. yes, i split this chapter up AGAIN-- it hit me when i opened the file today that the ending was good the way it was. jeeze, last chapter was 10 pages, this chapter is 10 pages, next chapter will be at least 10 pages easily...if i hadnt split this, it woulda been a 30 page chapter! ;;. wow. now that's talent (lol hi melissa!)

is that it? i think thats it. o wait, one more thing----R. E. V. I. E. W. ! c'mon guys, drop me a review or forty? constructive crit. is more then welcome. i am not above begging...keh heh heh.**

* * *

**

**Common Desire**

…**Because some things can't be denied forever. **

Roy stretched slightly, as much as his injured body would allow. He knew he should probably say something, but why break the silence? Nearly five minutes had gone by, and still they sat, clutching at the other's hand as if the world would end if they let go.

And maybe it would.

But…but, Roy reminded himself, they were not together, no matter how much he might wish they were. And, although it certainly sent his mind for a whirl, the fact that she was so close proved nothing in the end. He was counting on that.

_Don't let her do this,_ he told himself, _don't let her break that barrier down. Even if…even if she wants to. You almost lost her. Don't let that happen again._

He had to force himself to even think the words—believing in them was next to impossible. After all, Riza had faced down a homunculus to reach him…

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was flattering—hell, it was _awe-inspiring_—and just the thought that Riza might be so devoted sent excited shivers down his spine….only….Riza had been hurt, too. She'd been _knocked out_. How could he ask her what he most wanted to after that? He knew how much he'd hurt her the last few weeks…and now she'd been physically injured as well? How much more could he expect her to suffer for him? He was so tired of hurting her…so damn tired….

Another raw stab ran down his side, and he gritted his teeth. The pain reminded him that there were still some questions he needed to ask.

"H-Hey, Riza…I mean, Hawkeye…"

Riza flushed slightly and pulled her arm away, as if remembering that he was still her commanding officer, and not much else. "Y-Yes sir?"

"What…exactly happened…? I know I passed out, b-but…after that…what happened?"

"We aren't sure, exactly…by the time I arrived, you were already…" Her voice trailed off.

"Oh…well…I defeated Pride, b-but you must have…already figured that much…out…and…you said you got…held up…by a homunculus?

"Yes sir, Sloth."

"You…killed her, right?"

Riza's eyes hardened slightly. "She's no longer a threat, sir."

"R-Right…so, afterwards….what then?" Roy managed a weak chuckle. "I don't remember much."

Riza allowed herself to return his smile, if only slightly. "Not surprising, sir, considering how long you were unconscious."

Roy paused. "Y-Yeah…" He couldn't help but wonder how long that _had_ been…he couldn't help but wonder how long she'd been there, taking care of him. So he asked, expecting the answer to be three or four days—five at the max.

Riza closed her eyes briefly, not enjoying the memories the question brought back. "A little over two weeks, sir."

"_Two weeks!_?" Roy stared at her in shock. "T-Two _weeks!_?"

She nodded. Roy shook his head slowly, in disbelief. Two _weeks_?

_I was hurt that badly?_ was the first thought that crossed his mind, but it didn't last long; after all, from what he remembered of the fight with Pride, it hadn't been pretty. No, what was really shocking him—even if it took a moment or two to sink in—was that Riza had been there, by his side, cleaning his wounds and force-feeding him pills and basically keeping him _alive_, for _two weeks_.

Holy crap.

"If…if I was out that long, then why didn't…you take me to a hospital, Lieutenant?" He didn't mean the question to be rude; he just couldn't fathom her watching over him for so long. Perhaps he _had_ been taken to a hospital in the beginning?

"Because, sir, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes and I felt that with the current political…issues, it would be too hard to adequately protect you in a hospital." She gave an irritated frown. "Not to mention, with your wounds, you needed constant supervision, and the Lieutenant Colonel and I didn't think that the hospital staff was quite up to the task."

"The _two _of you didn't think that, or _you_ didn't think that?" Roy teased. Riza frowned at him.

"_We_ didn't think that, sir," she answered rather stonily…but was it only Roy's fever that made it seem as if she didn't quite meet his eyes?

Well, whatever the case, she seemed to notice Roy's skeptical glance, because she hurriedly continued: "As I said, what with the political situation, it made more sense to have you treated in a setting that would stress your injuries the least. We decided on my apartment."

Roy decided not to ask just what the political situation _was_ that the moment—he had enough on his plate right now, so he'd just have to be content with worrying over whether he was about to become president…or about to be arrested. Plus, there was another question he had to ask first.

"S-Speaking of injuries…" His voice trailed off. Riza bit her lip. She knew it was irrational, but a part of her had been hoping the Colonel _wouldn't_ ask…not just yet, anyway. Obviously she'd tell him now that he had asked—it was his body they were talking about, after all. Only…never mind the fact that she wasn't sure how he'd take the news about his eye—she plain just didn't _want_ to talk about it. He was so badly hurt…and every single one of his wounds was her fault. Every single scratch, cut, scrape, scar…all her fault, for not being where she was supposed to be when she was supposed to be there. By describing them, it was as if she was reminding herself of just what her negligence had caused…and she didn't _need_ the reminder. How many hours had she spent by his bedside, distraught at the idea of losing him, promising him wildly that she _could_ do better, _would _do better—oh, so much better!—if only he would stop crying out in his delirium and open his eyes?

"L-Lieutenant…?"

Riza shook herself out of her unhappiness, noting even as she did so that Roy'd gone back to using her title. Which was the proper, respectful thing for him to do. She'd always demanded that the level of professionalism between them never be broken…so why was she so disappointed all of a sudden?

"There were a lot of wounds, sir," she began, determined to keep the guilt _out_ of her voice. "Many gashes and scrapes, a handful of which later became infected, as well as both arms being severely lacerated… a few broken and fingers, probably from striking Pride," she added after a moment's pause, and Roy sought in vain to remember when exactly _that _had happened. He couldn't recall hurting his hands, just using them to punch and create flames.

"Several very deep sword wounds along your chest—which also became infected, most likely because they were exposed to the elements for so long, a couple of relatively minor cuts on your face, some mild burns, assorted bumps and bruises, a few broken ribs…" Riza continued, listing his many ailments like she was reading from a script. Roy frowned. There was something she was avoiding…

His left eye itched, so he reached up to rub it—and found his hand blocked by what felt like bandages. Which was exactly what they were. Thick strips of cloth wound around his head and dipping over the eye…

Roy suddenly knew exactly what it was Riza didn't want to tell him, and his stomach lurched. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise…he knew. After all…he could still feel blood's stickiness on the rough material, even more then fourteen days later...

"And…" Roy began, too casually, "what about…" He swallowed a bit. "What about my eye? I…can't see anything, not even…light from….underneath the bandages…"

Riza sighed inwardly, but her voice when she spoke was firm. What was the point in delaying the bad news?

"It looks as though you were stabbed there, sir," she said quietly, "and the wound got infected. Even now, it's still struggling to heal."

_Then….does that mean it's going to take a while before I can see out of it again? Or…._

The _or_ made him light-headed, but he couldn't avoid it, somehow. He tried to catch Riza's eyes, something that had suddenly become impossible.

"So…" he asked, slowly, "is it…going to….get better?"

There was no doubt about it now—Riza was definitely _not_ meeting his gaze. He took a deep breath, clenching his fingers tightly to keep them from shaking.

"Lieutenant…?" he managed. "Is my eye…will I be able to use it…anymore? Is it going to…to heal?"

"…No sir…" she finally whispered, sadly. "…It's not…"

"…."

Roy closed his eye—eye—for a minute, waiting for the news to sink in. "Ah. Well." He waited for some horrible sense of loss, or whatever it was people felt in situations like this, to overtake him. "…Well." He waited for the angry denial he was sure _Riza_ was waiting for. "…." He waited…

Except for having lost the ability to speak…nothing really changed.

Oh, it certainly sucked to have lost his eye like that—he was certain that later on, when it really hit him, he'd have a pretty hard time dealing with it. But right now, while he was still reeling from the fact that Riza was living and breathing and _right beside him_, hell…what was one eye, as opposed to one amazing person? If this was the only price he had to pay for his arrogance, then….damn, he'd gotten off pretty easily.

Riza watched him, concerned. She wasn't sure what kind of reaction to expect from the Colonel, and it was making her uneasy. Would he blame her? It _was_ her fault, after all….how upset would he be with her that he'd lost forever his 20/20 vision? It was a serious thing…he'd have to struggle now to regain his aim and precision while fighting…

The silence dragged on for what felt to Riza like an eternity. Roy didn't notice how pensive her normally taciturn face was—he was still too busy carefully sorting out his emotions about everything. There was some anger, some worry about what this meant for his future, some fear…hell, there was even some concern that his good looks might be gone! But those were just small things, popping up here and there, then vanishing back down to wherever they came from. The main feeling he was getting was still simple relief. Relief that all his foolishness had cost was _his_ skin, not hers.

And anyway, looking at it from the alchemist's point of view—when he had thought she was dead, hadn't he sworn he'd do anything if he could somehow bring her back? It was sort of like Equivalent Exchange, if he thought about it long enough. His eye for her life? Not a bad trade at all.

_Man, if someone had told me that I could save her by giving something like this up, I'd have let them pick and chose their organ, _he thought wryly.

He glanced back up at Riza, who was awfully quiet beside him, and frowned when he saw the worry in her eyes.

"Lieutenant…y-you ok…?"

She hesitated. How easy it would be to simply nod her head and struggle with her guilt in private! But no, he would tell—he always did, somehow.

"I—I'm sorry, sir…" she mumbled.

"S-Sorry? For what?"

She looked at him hopelessly. Couldn't he tell already?

Roy didn't like where this was going. What on earth did Riza Hawkeye have to apologize for?

"For…your eye," she said finally, and he stared at her in shock. She was apologizing…for _that?_! _Why!_? That wasn't her fault at all! She hadn't even _been_ there! Still, absurd or not, there was no mistaking the unhappiness surrounding her, and Roy was desperate to figure out something he could say, that might make things even a little bit better…hoping to bring at least a half-smile to her face, he grinned ruefully up at her.

"Eh, c'mon, H-Hawkeye. I'm the one who…fucked up, not you. Besides," he joked, "it's not like I lost both eyes, right? I still have another one! Really…it's alright."

If he thought that might help relieve the obvious tension….he was dead wrong.

"It is _not_ all right!" Riza snapped. "Nothing _about_ it is _all right!_"

Roy's mouth dropped open. "Lieutenant-?"

"I failed you, sir," she continued angrily, at herself or at him, Roy wasn't sure. "I didn't complete my part of the mission, and because of that, you've been crippled. You don't have to pretend as if it's not the truth, Colonel. I already am well aware that it is—"

"First Lieutenant Hawkeye." Roy's voice was so cold that she stopped mid-sentence. "First of all. You're probably the only reason I'm still breathing. The reason you didn't reach the prison exactly on time was because you were delayed by a _monster_ who wanted to _kill_ you. It's not as if you were just idly standing around."

"But sir—"

"Hold on, let me finish. Second of all…" He took a deep breath. "Don't you…_ever_…blame yourself for something that happens to me. I'm not worth it. Besides, my screwing up isn't your fault, Hawkeye." His tone was flat, and left no room for discussion. She thought she'd try anyway.

"With all due respect," she argued, her voice's trembling the only dent in her otherwise controlled behavior, "it _is_ my fault if something happens to you!"

"Oh really," Roy said through clenched teeth. "And why is that?"

"Because you're my superior officer, and I—"

"I'm also Havoc's superior officer, and Breida's, and Fury's. I don't see them feeling guilty over something they couldn't control."

"None of them ever promised to always protect you!" Riza yelled—actually _yelled_, her upset and muddled feelings getting the best of her at last. "And none of them ever broke that promise!"

Silence….Roy swallowed, at a loss for words. Riza glared down at her hands, enraged with herself for having mentioned her promise. Damn…how could she be so _stupid_! Saying something like that was akin to admitting her feelings outright, at least to her. She didn't _want_ Roy to know what kind of turmoil was baking inside of her—he'd think she was even _more _useless if he knew how fake her unruffled composer had been lately. God…why didn't she just spill _everything_ while she was at it? Why not just blurt out her feelings to the colonel? What was the use of keeping anything to herself if she was just going to give it away later? _This is why I shouldn't let myself lose my temper!_

"And what makes you think you…broke that promise, Lieutenant?" Roy asked, attempting while he did so to keep his voice calm.

"…" Riza looked away, a dull flush settling over her cheeks. Great—_another_ uncharacteristic flaw had decided to show up now, of all times. She'd been acting so unlike herself lately, she was beginning to forget who she was.

"My promise was todefend you, sir," she answered bleakly. "Obviously I have failed miserably in that regard."

Roy wanted to break something. Anything. If it was breakable and would shatter when it hit the floor, he wanted to break it.

_Dammit!_

He couldn't believe it. Riza had been sitting here for two fricken weeks blaming herself for every scratch. He knew that she'd always meant to keep that damn promise, but he'd never imagined she'd take it so _literally_…

She was letting her own career and her own ambitions fall by the wayside; she was constantly putting his needs before hers. He had taken up her entire life, and what was she getting out of it? Nothing. Not one goddamn _thing_!

"Jesus, I wish you hadn't made that fucking promise!" he cried before he could control himself. "I wish you had just gone on with your own life like everyone else!"

Riza was looking at him, shocked, but he figured he might as well keep going. It wasn't like he could help it—Riza's needless remorse had been such a shock to the system that he was hardly aware of _what_ he was saying at this point. All he knew was that everything—every uncertainty and nagging doubt that had ever entered his mind, revolving around _her_…they were all exploding out of him. The walls were coming down—the secrets were being exposed. The guilt was overwhelming.

"I don't understand you, Hawkeye. You could have probably been made a _general_ by now, but you insist on staying my subordinate. You're so attached to my mission—what about _yours?_!"

Her eyes were quickly beginning to look broken…Roy knew that he'd never be able to figure out why he was shouting at her like this, when in reality he knew he _needed_ her to keep supporting him…when he _needed_ to know she was there to keep going. He knew how hard it'd be just to get through the day without her there. And yet…he continued to yell.

"I needed you there, back in Ishbal—you didn't need me. You would have been fine either way. Hell, I don't know, maybe you just had some humanitarian urge and wanted to help me get through the war. Well, what about afterwards! What stopped you from going on and doing whatever it is _you_ wanted to do? Why did you just drop everything for _me?_! You barely _knew_ me! And yet here you are—you signed away your soul because of that stupid promise, and now you're being put through hell because of me, and you're not even complaining, just beating _yourself_ up!" His voice was pleading. "I don't understand!"

"I-I just…" Riza was at a loss. Not surprising—the colonel was demanding answers she hadn't yet found for herself! "Sir, I…"

It was hopeless—she couldn't explain.

_I don't know why I follow you, sir…_

It was the truth. She didn't know, not really. All she knew was that, long ago, she had watched as a self-loathing young Major vanished into the red dusts of Ishbal, knowing, somehow, that there was something different about him, and that he would one day change her life…

"And of all people…" Roy continued angrily—or so it sounded. "_You're_ the one who keeps following me, keeps backing me up. Of all people…." His voice rose. "Dammit, why didn't you just forget about me! And why can't you now? It won't _work_, you being so close to me—to my plans. I don't want you to be so fucking _attached_!"

"…"

Riza refused to let him see how severely he'd hurt her, how deeply his words dug. It wasn't easy though….she could feel herself crumbling inside. And to think that only a few minutes ago, she'd held his hand, and dared to hope…

"I apologize," she managed, trying and failing to salvage what was left of her pride. "I wasn't aware that you found me to be that…_unacceptable_."

She stood to go. No sense in hanging around here anymore, now was there? Roy obviously didn't want her there. And she didn't care. The awful muted ache deep inside, well…she wasn't sure quite where that was coming from, but it didn't matter. It wasn't important. She had half-known all along this was how Roy felt. It was no surprise, and there was no reason at all why it should bother her, why it should hurt.

Except it did, it _did_—it hurt worse then anything she'd ever felt, including everything she'd been through in Ishbal. She had to get out of that room before she collapsed—either way, she was sure it would happen, but she'd be damned if it'd happen in front of Roy.

"Riza." His voice was agonized. "Wait."

She didn't want to- she wanted to get away from there, away from _him_. But something in his voice made her stop and listen, the way it always did.

"T-That's…that's not what I meant." He wasn't looking at her; rather, he had his eyes fixed firmly on the bedspread. "It's not that. But…you know something, for a minute, I was gonna let you leave just like it was." He uttered a short, unhappy laugh. "Sad, huh? I was gonna let you walk out of here, probably forever…all for a reason that wasn't even true."

Riza stared at him. "May I ask why? Sir!"

"Because," he whispered, still staring at nothing. "Because maybe then you'd give up and _leave_."

"…What…" Riza struggled to keep her tone of voice in check. "If you don't mind my asking, sir…what exactly have I _done_ to cause you to want me to…to leave?"

"Following me…supporting me….always being there. Always willing to do whatever it takes to get me ahead, even if it's dangerous or if you don't agree. No matter how big of an idiot I'm being, in the end you'll always back me up anyway and put yourself in harm's way…._dammit_!" He turned and smashed his fist into the headboard behind him, ignoring the pain.

"But sir," she protested, "As your subordinate, it's my job to insure your well-being! All of those of us under you fell the same way, Colonel, because we believe in your mission. We wouldn't support you if we didn't."

_But you're not just any subordinate, Riza… _

"That's just the thing." He shrugged, glowering. "I don't understand how you all decided I was worth throwing your support behind. You were in Ishbal, Hawkeye, you know how it was….what I did."

"Sir…"

"But even if we ignore the why's…it won't change anything." He looked at her, finally. "I'll never understand why you support me. I just know I wish you didn't."

There was a giant lump in her throat now, and it was making talking extremely difficult. "…Because of all the mistakes I've made? Not reaching you in time, becoming a liability once Greed struck—"

"I already told you it's not that." He sounded tired now. "Besides, Greed attacked _you,_ it's not your fault."

"It caused more trouble, more distractions for you—"

"And you have my permission to dig up his body and slap him for it. But it's not that. You're not a…a _liability_." The idea made him chuckle wearily. "Hell, you're anything but."

"Then why…do you want me to leave?" Her emotions once again got the better of her. "And why not…just _tell_ me!"

Riza cursed silently—her voice had completely cracked on that one. This was crazy…who _cared_ what the answers were? It didn't matter….the fact was, Roy didn't want her to support him. Did there even have to be a reason for it? Would knowing his reason make the pain any less brutal?

"I couldn't tell you."

She turned back to him, surprised. "Sir..?"

"I know I probably should have. But I couldn't. I needed you there. Heh…I guess I even wanted you there. I wanted to transfer you, but at the same time I wanted you to stay. Makes no sense, does it? There's my weakness for you….I couldn't even do the right thing for a change and reassign you."

"Sir….if you wanted—" She paused. "If you _needed_ me there," -a presumptive statement, not one she would ever normally make, because she was certain he could get along just fine without her, thank you very much…but _need_ was more believable then _want_, anyway- "then how would a transfer be—"

"At least then you wouldn't get hurt because of me!" he yelled. Her eyes widened, but he ignored it. "At least then you wouldn't be risking your life because of who your fucking commander is!"

Riza was, yet again, speechless. It seemed to have been happening a lot lately. "C-Colonel, I…"

"You shouldn't have…_been _there all these years," Roy continued, sounding almost as if he was arguing with himself. "Hell, you shouldn't even be here _now_. Any typical soldier would have dropped me off at some hospital somewhere…which is what's _supposed_ to happen. If I'm still a…a target, or whatever, then god damn it…why would you bring me to your _house?_! You're just putting yourself in harm's way, again, needlessly, because of some reason I can't for the fucking life of me figure out!"

Riza dropped her gaze to the floor.

"Jesus…_you're_ the one who's so big on thinking things out first and being logical and all that crap. You know as well as I do that the smart thing is….damn, I don't even know at this point. But I do know that it's not my subordinate acting like my bodyguard!" His voice dropped to a faint murmur. "No matter how much I might need her to act like that."

"But, sir…" Riza hardly dared breathe the words, "If you need something, then--"

"But I shouldn't need you!"

"C-Colonel…?"

Roy turned red as he realized what he'd just said. "_It_," he amended lamely. "I shouldn't need _it_."

Riza closed her eyes. Everything was too confusing, too messed up. The only thing she could grasp was that Roy had forgotten something…something very important.

He had gone back to studying the bedspread, resolutely _not_ meeting her eyes. Obviously he was assuming she was pissed at him. Taking a deep breath, she returned to his bedside, and pushed his shoulders back down. He looked up in surprise.

"Ri--Hawkeye…!"

"You need your rest, remember, sir?"

"But…." Roy was so confused. Wasn't she mad at him? Why was she still taking care of him? "I thought…"

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Colonel," she informed him sternly, continuing to push his shoulders until he gave up and sank down again. "There is nothing wrong with you needing…something that you feel is so important to you."

"But…it's too dangerous…too uncertain…" he whispered. "It's not smart at all, don't try and tell me it is…" He smiled bitterly. "After all, Riza Hawkeye doesn't lie, right?"

Riza resisted the urge to smack him.

"Fine, Colonel," she said coolly. "I won't say it's smart. I really don't know if it is or isn't, frankly."

"You see…?" Another bitter laugh. "It just shows how big a coward I am. I can't even do the smart thing and—"

"Colonel Mustang," Riza interrupted rather loudly. "Do you remember what I told you, back in Ishbal, when you asked me why I didn't desert?"

Roy looked confused. "Yeah, you…said there was a….smart thing and a right thing, and that they're not always the same, right?"

She nodded calmly, but her eyes flashed at him. Roy understood what she meant; he was just having a hard time processing it.

"But…this isn't…you being here all the time…being my _bodyguard_ all the time…that's not the _right_ thing, either! It can't be, I mean…" He realized he was sputtering hopelessly by this point, so he just stopped talking. He knew he'd gotten the point across…more or less.

_What if she…agrees with me? She'll leave, I guess, which would be good…I **know** it would be, it's not like I haven't thought about it a million times before…but…_

What he couldn't for the life of him understand was why, if it was really a good thing, the idea should be such a horrible one to him. Well….no, that wasn't really true…he knew _why_…he just wished it wasn't true that it hurt so much--he wished he could be stronger, strong enough to send her away without giving in to his own weak desires.

Riza sighed. "Sir, it _is_ the right thing," she informed him, as if it were obvious. _For me, anyway…_

"How...? You're being put in harm's way, and you won't even get any rewards out of this—"

"I'll get to see you become president," she said simply. "That's reward enough."

"L-Lieutenant…"

"Colonel, you have to understand," came her soft voice. "I'm not supporting you for the rewards. None of your men are. Trust me," and her lips turned up in a wry smile, "if that was the case, we all would have found much easier ways to get what we wanted."

"Then…why…?"

Riza paused for a second, and then sighed again. Picking up the glass of water, she half-forced him to take a drink—how had she known his throat was going dry again?—before answering.

"As I've said, Colonel Mustang, I…we…support you because we have faith in you, in your promise to fix what is broken in this country—whether or not you have any faith in yourself," she added firmly when she saw him about to protest. He gave up and fell silent. "We know you can do this, Colonel…" Her voice softened. "_I _know you can do this."

Roy was quiet for a long, long time. Riza had just begun to wonder if their little…discussion…was over, when he finally spoke. His voice was hesitant, doubtful, completely unlike his usual cocky drawl. After all, it was the product of him debating heatedly with himself over whether or not to ask what he wanted to. He was so afraid of the answer…

_She could say yes, and only get dragged in deeper…except that she's already in so deep…and she doesn't want to climb her way out, either. She's so determined to support me…doesn't she realize how dangerous it is?_!

So, no, he didn't want her to say yes…but…he didn't want her to say no, either. God, if she said no, it'd be a bullet to the heart he could never overcome…

_No! I want her to say no. That would make it easier for everyone. _A bitter voice that wasn't his asked, _easier for who? Not for you, you just admitted you'd go insane. _He tried hopefully, _For her then?_ The voice jeered at him, _Idiot, she's not leaving you. If the answer's yes, and you still hold her at arm's length 'cause you're scared…well, you'll only hurt her more. _Roy paused.

…Why hadn't he realized that before, damn it! Where the heck was this voice two weeks ago!

_Face it, _the voice continued, _you **want** her to say yes. You're just too scared to admit it. _He frowned indignantly. _Scared? Of what? _A pause, and then—_Of losing her. Of getting so close and then having her ripped away from you. And of hurting her, of not being what she needs or deserves. _Roy could feel hot anger rising up in his chest. _Well?_ he demanded angrily. _So what? I **don't** want to hurt her, I'm **not **what she deserves!_ The voice's tone made him sound like a moron. _Says who? Says you, and since when do you have any idea at all when it comes to this stuff? You go out with bimbos who forget their own **names**, for Christ's sake. Face it, Mustang, when it comes to romance, you're an idiot!_ He felt the need to defend himself, but hey, even Roy had to admit his conscience had a point. _Listen, Riza doesn't seem to care about your opinion of yourself. She doesn't seem to think you're some monster who belongs behind bars. And don't even think that it's 'cause she doesn't know, she was in Ishbal with ya and she saw all the fucked up things you did and she loves you anyway. Hell, you should be throwing a party, not whining._

Hmph, that was so not true! ...Ok, maybe it was. But, come on! _I don't have a right to drag her down into my hell…_ No doubt about it, the voice was majorly impatient with him…not to mention annoyed. _Who says you'll drag her down? Maybe she'll lift **you** up._

_Maybe she'll…_the idea blew him away. Feeling the need to reign in this crazy conversation with himself, he insisted, _This is nuts, first of all, and second of all, it doesn't matter, because she's not **going** to say yes. _The voice sighed. _How about you ask her and find out for sure? Unless you're too much of a coward…_

Faced with his own damn conscience calling him a coward, in the end Roy had no choice but to ask.

"Riz—Hawkeye," he began tentatively, "Uhm, listen…" Oh god oh god oh god, how was he supposed to ask her after telling her to her face he wished she wasn't always there? "L-Look, um…" He forced a laugh. "Something I just…just realized, ah…"

"Sir?" Riza instantly sounded concerned, all traces of uncertainty over what had just transpired between the two of them gone. When it came down to Roy Mustang's health, she didn't let anything get in the way. "Are you feeling ok? Maybe you should rest for a while…"

"No, no…ah…it's not that, it's just…uhh…see, I was talking to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes the other day, and, uh…" He blinked. Was it the lack of working eyes Roy was dealing with now, or did Riza suddenly look extremely pensive? …But why would she look like that, unless…--nope, it was the lack of eyes. Definitely the lack of eyes. "Y-You know how he is…completely mental…but, see…"

"Sir," Riza interrupted hurriedly, "I really think you should rest—!"

"Hold on a minute, Hawkeye, let me just get this out. See, Hughes kept bringing up this wild idea of his, and what with the homunculi business and all, I kinda forgot to mention it to you before, but, uhm…"

Riza stared at him in obvious horror. Was he asking—he couldn't be asking—oh shit, what if he was asking what she though he was asking? What was she supposed to say _then?_!

"…Now that things have…er…_settled down_ a bit," Roy was saying, his voice faint in her ears, "I figured I might as well ask, just to, y'know, get it outta the way and all….I mean, I know what your answer's gonna be, like I said, Hughes is nuts. Don't know where the hell he gets his ideas from, heh heh. But, anyway, he had this…_crazy_ idea that you…" he laughed again, too loudly. Riza thought numbly about telling him that he shouldn't strain his body so much. "That you…had, uh…" _Oh crap, this isn't working_! "He had this crazy idea that you…were…that you were actually…actuallyinlovewithmebutIknowthat'snottrueit'sjustainsaneideayoudontfeelthatwayright?" he finished, all in a rush. Then he sighed, leaned back against the pillow, and waited for her to say no.

"…."

She'd be saying no any second now.

"…"

Yup, any second…

"…"

….

"…"

…Why wasn't she saying no?

"H-Hawkeye…?" He risked a glance. "Lieutenant?"

Riza stared down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them in her lap. She knew Roy was waiting for an answer—damn Hughes for telling him! She never should have admitted a thing around him. Although….in all honesty, she knew he'd have blabbed about her feelings to the Colonel whether he had proof or not, so…but still! How the hell could she answer that question? Obviously, her answer was yes, but she couldn't tell _Roy_ that…could she?

_He just told me he didn't want me around,_ she reminded herself…but, then again, it sounded as if he'd only done that to try and protect her. Even so, though…she'd decided long ago that his feelings weren't the same…after all, he'd continued to date even after the whole mess had started—her skin still crawled at the thought of The Date. But…the way he was looking at her…the way he'd sounded before, so distraught at the idea that he might cause her to land in harm's way….

"…Hawkeye," Roy tried again, uncertainly, "Is…is what Hughes was saying…true?"

Riza closed her eyes in exhaustion. This was it….she couldn't hide it any longer. True, she could always just say no, and he'd believe her…but…the word wouldn't come out of her mouth. Maybe it was better this way. At least she wouldn't have to hold it inside any longer, and maybe now he'd be more considerate when going out with other women. That is, unless he transferred her first.

Roy heard her sharp intake of breath, and felt his heart leap into his throat. "H-Hawkeye? He's not right…is he?"

One last pause, and then…

"Yes sir," Riza whispered. "He is."

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AN- oddly enough, this chapter goes from roy in full-on guilt mode, to roy in full-on spaz mode, all within five seconds. maybe i shoulda dragged that out a bit more...altho i have been accused many a time of over-writing (my biggest flaw besides spelling, it would seem.) anyone else have an opinion on this? 

heck, even if you dont, review anyway!


	21. Chapter 20

AN-- First of all, let me just say that i am in SHOCK at the amount of reviews i got last chapter. twelve, when my record was six! that's double the amount i was hoping for! (did this thing get put into a c2 without my realizing it or something?) thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed, you all rock--and i know the new record of 12 reviews can be broken too, right? XD anyway, to the responces--

**shizu-chan--** thanks for both the website links n the great review. so nice to know this story draws people in!

**flOofymikO--** it's official. you are awsome. i have no words. your comments are just...wow. you somehow managed to pick out all the things i was worried about last chapter and say that they worked out. SUCH a huge confidence-booster, it's great. thanks!

**unexpection--**well, i may not have a huge quantity of reviewers (altho i got pretty lucky this time around!) but hey. a lot of those 5-billion reviewed stories also have a lot of flames...so far, i havent gotten one. :knocks on wood:. so, the quality of my reviews aint bad. XD; besides, this story IS pretty dark, depressing, and...er...LONG...i can see why it'd turn some people off. anyways...0.0...Falman on American Idol? ;;...who knew?

**xXsilentxwhisperXx--** lol, thanks for the constructive crit. it's sad to hear that my overwrite bug is back, but hopefully not too bad. what part was confusing? maybe i can make some changes...

**Isee--** aaah, you finally got around to reading it, eh? XD i'm glad, it's nice to get compliments from a writer you admire. n.n oh, and i'm also glad to know the dream was effectivly creepy. thanks for reviewing!

**Puddles24--**glad you liked the longness! (;; 'cause that's one habit i'll never break!)

ALSO HUGE THANKS TO: **Higuma Otoshi, Arcireza, Shadow Dreamer 27, Bonnie, Entei Artist, tracycoder, **and **Maco Makaroushi.**

AAH, now that that's taken care of--just to let you know, this is the one chapter where any OOCness (mainly with Riza) is really kinda nessissary...in other words, she has to do what she has to do. i don't think it's too bad anyway. uhm...some slight perverted comments...well, to be more exact, what happens to a specific male body part when said male is turned on. but, hey, it's hardly anything 'shocking', so there you go. and, also, during the letter part--you'll see--i had it all nice on Microsoft Word, with a font that really looked like a child's handwriting and everything...but Quickedit ate the font -.-. :burns the Quickedit system because she absolutly HATES it.: so, yeah, jsyk, any words in that one part that are bolded, had lines thru them in MW--another thing that didnt work here--and are supposed to be cross-outs. damn editing system...

This was mostly written to _Far Away _by Nickleback. it's kinda eerie, actually, how closely that song echoes this story. **

* * *

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**disclaimer--**c'mon. if i actually owned this, would i NEED to write fanfiction about it? 

**Gun Smoke and Roses**

"Yes sir…he is."

Roy stared. And stared. And kept staring, until Riza dropped her eyes back to the ground in mute embarrassment. He tried to say something, but the best he could do was to open and close his mouth a few times. It was pretty pathetic, actually, for him to be so surprised at something he'd more-then-half-known all along was coming. After all, Hughes _had_ warned him…about fifty times…a day…

"H-Hawkeye, I…"

_Oh no you don't, Roy—try and say something that's more then one syllable, dammit!_

"I…" He took a deep breath, determined to get what he wanted—but still wasn't sure he should—say out. "I…uh…I…"

…Well, this was going nowhere fast, now was it? It seemed his fight with Pride had left him the ability to stutter hopelessly for hours without saying a thing. Wonderful. "I…"

"Colonel," Riza interrupted. Her face, although pale, was determined—her trembling hands she kept safely out of his line of sight. "I understand that your feelings are not the same as mine." (It was like swallowing acid, saying what she was…but if that was what it took to keep Roy from transferring her, then so be it.) "I never…never expected they would be." (No, she never had expected that, had she? …Except, maybe, for all those times when hope invaded her thoughts, against her better judgment. And see where that hope had brought her?) "Please rest assured, sir, you don't have to change the way you feel about me. I'm not asking or expecting you to…"

"I don't have to change my feelings," agreed Roy dazedly. Riza let out the softest of sighs.

"No sir…you don't. I promise I won't allow my…_personal opinions_ to come between my responsibilities."

There was a pause, and it was laced with sadness…laced with regret.

"You should…probably get some sleep, sir," she finally said, if only to change the subject and spare her from any _more_ heartache…assuming there was still anything _left _of her heart. Roy acted as if he hadn't even heard her.

"I don't have to change my feelings," he repeated slowly, and Riza found herself eyeing him uncertainly. "Definitely don't have to…since they're the same as yours…"

Now it was Riza's turn to stare. "S-Sir? I…I'm sorry, Colonel, I don't understand—"

"They're the same as yours, ok!" he snapped. After a split second, though, a sheepish little grin spread across his face. "Ah…sorry. Pent-up emotion and all, you know." His tone became more serious. "Really…I'm sorry. For…well…everything, I guess. For being such a jackass to you the past few weeks, and…for making you worry…hell, I'm just _sorry_."

Riza…heh…it actually wasn't possible to describe what was currently going through her mind. It was all still too muffled to be definable, because doubt was still firmly lodged in her reactions. "Sir…" she stammered, "A-Are you saying…"

"That I love you?" He looked self-consciously away. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am."

Riza sank back in her chair…was this light-headed rush what love really was?

"Col…Colonel…" And then, because it was too good to be true, she hesitantly began, "Sir, really, there's no need to pretend—"

"So who the hell's pretending?" he answered her bluntly. His fingers dug into his palm, sending up little sharp twinges of pain. "Damn it, Hawkeye…" He paused; if he really was going to do this, he might as well do it right. "No, _Riza_…damn it, _Riza_…I'm not pretending." He offered her a small smile. "Hasn't Hughes been blabbing to you about it? Bastard can't keep a secret for his life."

"He…"

_"__Roy was still so scared that something would happen to you... the girl he loves…"_

She dared to try and meet Roy's eyes; he was looking at her intently, eyes burning with a fervor she'd never before seen….

_"…the girl he loves…"_

"But…sir…" Riza managed, numb with shock, disbelief, a thousand other emotions, "I…you never…never showed any interest, and all those other women you've dated, I just…I don't…." Her voice shook. "Why didn't you just…just _say_ something!"

Roy winced visibly. "Why? Hell, I don't know." He paused. "No…no, I do know. I just…" He looked resigned now, as if he was about to admit some deep, dark, terrible secret that would change everything. "I was scared shitless," he said frankly. "I mean, with everything going on…you were always being put in danger because of me as it was, even if you _were_ willing…I didn't want to make it even worse. I figured that you'd get over it—that you'd get over _me_."

"Get over you…? Sir, I…I dedicated my whole _life_ to defending you, I wouldn't just—"

"You dedicated your whole life to defending a murderer," Roy hissed. "You know how many people I killed in one battle alone? You know how few of those people could actually _fight_ _back_ worth a damn?"

Riza looked wordlessly at him, at this man who struggled so much just to get by each day.

"I wanted to tell you…sometimes," he continued, "I got so close to just admitting everything..."

She was hit by a sudden memory of a miserable, rainy Friday afternoon, before any of this had even started, before she'd even been willing to own up to her feelings…she'd knelt down in wounded fury to pick up scattered papers, and Roy had looked at her for a moment before turning away…

"But then I'd wonder about what I'd do if something happened…fuck it, I was _scared_," he said angrily. "What the hell was I supposed to do if I lost you? Not that it'd be any easier regardless…..fucking catch-22 and all…but the way I thought about it, it'd be best if you just kept your professional distance. That way, when things got too rough, you wouldn't be involved enough to…" He refused to say it outright.

"Colonel, did you honestly think I wouldn't help you if you needed it-?" she began hotly, but Roy cut her off.

"I thought you'd use that brilliant mind of yours and realize that following a goddamn dog of the military to the death was not exactly _smart_!" he growled.

Riza's voice had long since become tight and strained. "And did this idea of yours make things any easier?" (As if she didn't know, as if she hadn't spent night after night tossing and turning in bed, because she knew Roy was suffering and she couldn't find a way to save him. As if she hadn't longed desperately to be able to fight off his demons for him, because she wasn't so sure that the man who could win a fight against almost any other human, could win the fight against his darker side as well…as if she hadn't wanted to tell him that he didn't have to do it alone, that she would be there beside him no matter what…)

He laughed, bitterly. "I was a living wreck. Worst part of it all was that I had a reputation to protect, I had to keep dating—otherwise people might've suspected something. Which wasn't as easy as it sounds- there's only so many girls I can steal from Havoc, you know. I know it doesn't sound so bad, being 'forced' to go out to dinner with someone, but…" His voice trailed off a bit. "I could barely stand to look at some of those girls, because they weren't…weren't_ the_ girl…they were just empty-headed idiots! And _you_…" he looked pointedly at Riza, "you weren't helping, either. You didn't find some other guy to fawn over, you didn't get mad at me—or if you did, you didn't let it drive you away like I'd assumed you would. I mean, _anyone_ would, normally!"

"I didn't…" -it was so hard to find the words by now- "I didn't realize you wanted me to do that, sir."

"Of course I didn't _want_ you to," he snarled at her desperately. "I _needed_ you to! It was either that, or I tell you everything, and I couldn't fucking _do_ that. I don't know why I'm doing it now! You could follow anyone, and you choose to follow me…I can't…" He shut his eyes against this latest sorrow, born from the most unbelievable joy. But then, there could never be total bliss—pleasure must always be mixed with pain. "I can't be the kind of guy you need. I can't be the kind of guy you deserve. It doesn't look like you're ever going to leave the way you should…I'll have to accept that, fine. But I can't just let you give everything to me…when I don't deserve it at all."

"…."

If it wasn't so completely out of character for her, Riza really would have smacked him this time. Glancing at her again, he could see the anger in her eyes, and fell silent.

"How can you say that, sir?" she demanded in a voice both heated and relieved. "How can you say that you don't deserve…" She clenched her fists. Why was this so hard to say? "I…I don't agree with that, sir. I never have."

Roy closed his eyes again, breathing hard. "You should."

"But I don't." Her eyes flashed once more, and he was reminded that he wasn't the only stubborn person in the room. "Nothing you say will change that."

"Why," he cried out, "why won't it? How can you still have so much damn faith in me after—"

"After you joined the military, after you became a State Alchemist, after you were forced to follow your orders and kill defenseless people," she listed softly. "You can't blame yourself, Colonel. What you did—what _we_ did, what every soldier did, was horrible, yes, but….sir…."

'_What we did…_'…Roy couldn't deal with that. He refused to even go near it, refused to even entertain for a second that Riza, his beautiful, flawless Riza, could have any share in the blame that the war had dished out greedily.

But then the peculiar thought drifted into his mind, that maybe that was how Riza felt about it too…did she honestly not blame him for the horrors he'd been witness to, the lives he'd stolen, the times he'd aimed and snapped and watched as human flesh was burned away…?

No, that couldn't be it, Roy refused to let himself off the hook that easily…

"_You_ can't reason it away, Hawkeye," he argued. "There's no excuse, and you know that as well as I do." He let out another sardonic laugh. "Wanna hear something funny? When I was fighting Pride, he kept insisting that the two of us were exactly alike. I didn't want to admit it at the time, but looking back…he really was right. He might have been a homunculus…but he was still as human as they come. Ruthless, vicious, self-centered…didn't care who he had to screw over, as long as it helped him out. And he's the best example of true human nature I can think of…what the hell does that say about the rest of us?"

"With all due respect, sir," Riza answered softly, "that's a very flawed version of a human—"

"It's a _perfect_ version of me," he growled at nothing.

"It is _not_!"

Roy's head snapped up, and he stared at her.

"I won't believe that, sir. I _can't _believe that." Her voice broke. "And you shouldn't believe that either."

"…."

Roy was lost. Hopelessly and completely lost. Or maybe….maybe he'd _been_ lost—maybe this was the trail he'd wandered off of so many years ago. Was this what it felt like to be found?

His head was spinning—the arguments with which he lived his daily life had been pulled out from underneath him. He didn't know which way was up any more, didn't know what he was supposed to do next. All he knew at this point was that, right or wrong, it was impossible to fight off what perhaps had been inevitable all along…

He still didn't think he should be doing this…any of this. But…Riza was there. And, with her standing so firm, so unwavering, so… _ready_…beside him, maybe he'd be able to handle the consequences, after all. Roy wasn't sure what was going to happen next, and suddenly, he didn't _care_. He looked at Riza, who stood with him—and would _continue _to stand with him—no matter what. _No matter what_. What was the point of resisting any longer, really? He wanted it. She wanted it. And Roy finally understood.

He needed her…but she needed him, too. Screw whatever happened next…together, they'd find a way to deal with it, he was sure. Finally, his eyes were opened, and Roy was determined to never close them again.

Quickly, without thinking—because too much thinking was what had gotten him into this mess to begin with—he reached out and grabbed her hand again. She colored noticeably.

"S-Sir…"

"No," he cut her off, cursing his voice when it chose to give out on him again. "It's not 'sir'. We're…we're not in the office right now, so it's not 'sir'. It's Roy. Please." He was looking into those amber eyes of hers again, drowning in their pure perfection—and loving every minute of it. "Please just use my first name…Riza."

She flushed again and looked down, but not at the floor—at their entwined hands. Incredible. The colonel really loved her? This wasn't all just some fantasy? The idea alone set off such a thrill….

She felt suspiciously dizzy, and was possessed by an urge to say _something_ that might put her back on familiar ground—because right now she was starting to have trouble recognizing the terrain.

"Colo…" She took a deep breath. "I mean…Roy…"

And whatever she was about to say was dropped and forgotten, because Riza found herself stuck, unable to go any further…not that she really wanted to. All she'd done was use his first name the way he'd asked, but….it just felt so… _right_, saying his actual name, instead of 'Colonel' or 'sir'. (Yes, she'd used his first name once before, but that had been under different circumstances, in a warped nightmare, the stench of which still haunted her. It hadn't felt appropriate then, because the entire situation had been wrong--far too wrong--for such an intimate thing; it was like using profanity at a funeral. But this…this was something completely different.)

There was still so much that the two of them had to think about, but it was all being put on hold for the moment…because, even as Roy found himself rising up to a sitting position, Riza found herself leaning in…

They were closer now then they had ever been, really…their lips were almost near enough to touch…and…

"Riza! Riza Riza _Rizaaa!_! C'mon, open up! Hellooo? I know you're in there, you haven't left this apartment once in like, two weeks! Open up!"

The two pulled away, quickly, embarrassed.

"Rizaaa! C'mon! Let me in! Are you sleeping in there? Or making out with Roy? Wait…that's it, isn't it! He woke up, and the two of you are making out! Let me in!"

Roy twitched. Noticeably.

"Hughes…?"

Riza sighed and got up to answer the door. "He's been coming by pretty much every day to see how you were doing."

"Hmph," Roy grunted in answer, "He always manages to interrupt everything, doesn't he?"

"He's been…extremely helpful these past two weeks, si-Roy," Riza answered carefully.

She didn't go into details, and really, she didn't have to. Roy already knew, simply by looking at her, how vital it had been for her, having Hughes stop by every day. After all, she'd refused to leave her colonel's bedside unless there was someone else to watch over him—and even then, she would always be back after only a few minutes, unable to walk away. Roy already knew that, though. He already knew how hard it had been for her, sitting by the bed (_her_ bed, which he was now befouling with blood and puke and slimy infection) while he lay there, still as death, ensnared by the deep sleep of unconsciousness. He already knew how Hughes, seemingly psychic, would appear at _just _the right moment—just as she was about to crack completely from grief and worry and the brutal implausibility of it all. He already knew, somehow, that at times, when the pain was simply too much for her to handle, Riza would bury her head in her arms and just _sit_ there, and Hughes would do his best to comfort her, saying how Roy looked much better today, how his fever had dropped a degree, how she really shouldn't worry, because he really _was_ going to be fine.

"How can he _not_ be," he'd observed with a slight smile, "with such a determined first lieutenant taking care of him? Roy's not _that_ stupid—he knows you'd follow him to the next world and shoot the living daylights out of him if he died, no question."

It had been Hughes who had bustled about keeping things moving, holding things together when their little group was shattered and stunned. He'd used his rank to the fullest, giving Havoc and Fury and the rest meaningless orders to keep them busy, making them focus on the political aspect of things, simply because it was something to do.

It was Hughes who would spend hours—usually without much success—trying to get Riza to take a nap, or to at least _eat_ something. It was Hughes who would babble cheerfully, on and on, until his voice went hoarse, about everything and anything unimportant, knowing how much Riza _needed_ to hear about his daughter's latest antics…how much she _needed_ to focus on anything but the shivering man choking up blood in front of her. And when even that wasn't enough to stop the tears, it was Hughes who sat, respectfully silent (and not watching, the most important thing of all) so that she could at the very least hold on to her dignity. When she'd managed to get a grip on herself again, he'd go back to chattering away like nothing had ever happened.

Riza couldn't have been more grateful.

Without Maes Hughes, it was extremely doubtful that she would have been able to listen to Roy's delirious moaning and still keep her sanity intact. He pushed his own considerable unhappiness (Roy _was_ his best friend, after all) to the side, ignoring his melancholy in an attempt to lessen hers. He understood, the way he always had, how desperately Riza needed Roy Mustang, how devastating it would be for her to lose him _now,_ of all times, when things were hardly resolved.

But Riza didn't have to tell Roy any of that, because he already knew.

"Riza? Hey, Hawkeye! Open the dooooor! You know, _some_ people might consider it rude that you'd rather do it with your boyfriend then let a good friend in—"

"_Lieutenant Colonel!_" Riza had reached and opened the door. "Honestly, sir…!"

A second later, Maes came bounding into the room. He didn't look quite as perky as he usually did—there were bags under his eyes, denoting a lack of sleep—but he positively _beamed_ when he saw Roy. It was kinda scary, actually.

"OOH! You _are_ awake! I knew it! I don't know _how_ I knew it, but I knew it! You finally decided that you didn't feel like dying, huh? It's about gosh darn _time!_!"

Roy couldn't hide the smirk-smile that popped up onto his face. "Hey, Hughes."

"Don't 'hey Hughes' me, mister! I must have spent a billion hours telling you that idea of yours was dumb, but did you listen? Nooo! And look what happened! You had us all worried, you know!"

Roy's gaze went to Riza, who was standing in the doorway, and his smile faded. "Yeah…I know."

Hughes paused for an instant, then smiled slightly. "Seriously though. It's nice to see you _awake_ for a change."

Roy nodded. "It's nice to _be_ awake for a change." The two best friends grinned at each other, until Roy completely ruined the moment by having a mild coughing attack. Riza instantly moved forward, her apprehension hardly disguised.

"Roy…?"

"Fine," he said quickly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm fine."

"Yah, it was only—WAIT ONE SECOND!"

Roy felt a familiar sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Hughes stared suspiciously from him to Riza and back. Still, he figured he might as well try and defuse this ticking time bomb of annoyance before it blew. "What? What's wrong with you!"

"Since when," began Hughes slowly, "are you…and her…on a _first-name basis?_!"

Roy's mouth dropped open, but no words came out. Behind him, Riza had turned a rather obvious shade of crimson, which looked pretty unusual on her. Hot, but unusual.

"You….you guys really _did_ get together didn't you? _Didn't you?_!"

"Argh…_yes_, Maes," Roy growled. "Now _please_ shut u—"

And then he was cut off, as Hughes let out a squeal so ear-splittingly loud, Roy was _sure_ he'd gone deaf afterwards.

"Ow! Dammit, Hughes, try and control that, _wouldja?_!"

"Sorry! I'm just so excited!"

"…_Why!_?"

"Why? Whaddya mean, _why_? You and Riza _FINALLY_ got together! Do you know how long I've been waiting to see that? Oooh…" He was starting to look teary-eyed and everything. "It's all worth it then, you being stupid and losing an eye and ignoring the _ingenious_ advice of your best friend. You two _finally_ hooked up! Now I win the bet!"

"…Bet?" Riza managed. "…Care to explain what bet you're talking about?"

"Trust me," Roy groaned, "you _do not_ want to know."

"Well actually, I lost the first bet," Hughes sighed, "because you were too busy being dumb to ask Riza out like you _should_ have. But," he continued, nimbly ducking the pillow Roy threw at him, "I _do_ win the one about whether you two would ever go out at all. Can you believe Havoc said you'd never get the guts up? He has no faith in you, Roy! None!"

"…" Riza looked down at Roy in shock. "…You were _aware_ that they were betting on this!" Roy just mumbled.

"Oh, but seriously, this is _great_!" Hughes sounded more excited then either Roy or Riza, for heaven's sake! "This is _wonderful_! Aw, but now you'll have to break it to all your 'lady friends', y'know…all those girls rabidly obsessed with you." He paused. "Dear lord…they may riot."

"Mm, yeah, well…" Roy suddenly became very fascinated with the bedspread again. "I wouldn't say those women were all….er…_obsessed _with me…"

"They _are_ obsessed," Hughes said flatly. "Just because _you're_ taken doesn't mean _they_ care. Heck, you've been getting more love letters at the office _now_ then _before_ your little stunt."

"Really? I have?" Roy was interested despite himself. "You don't say."

"Yup. Actually, I thought you might have known by now," Hughes mentioned, innocently enough. "Riza said she'd take all your mail for safe-keeping until you were well enough to read it. And since that was pretty much your only mail…"

"Oh…." Roy and Hughes both turned to stare at Riza, whose only response was to raise an eyebrow.

…..

Both men sweat dropped, and Hughes decided it would be wise—not to mention better for his physical well-being—if he changed the subject.

"SO! ANYWAYS! What's it feel like to be president, Roy?"

"…." Roy stared. "What…?"

Riza gasped. Oh crap! She'd completely forgotten to tell him!...How on earth had she managed to forget _that!_?

Roy shook his head, slowly. "Someone mind _explaining?_!"

"You mean you didn't _know!_?" Hughes asked, amazed. "Riza, didn't you tell him?"

"We…had other things to discuss that came up first…"

"Uh huh," Hughes nodded, and Riza felt a rush of relief that he understood. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure that under the circumstances anyone would have skipped talking for making out."

Okay…scratch the 'understanding' part.

"_Lieutenant Colonel_!" Riza hissed, well aware that her face was scarlet and that Roy was struggling to refrain himself from attacking, "we were _not_—"

"Suuuuurree you weren't," he winked, and she let out an aggravated curse, which was interrupted by an even more aggravated Roy.

"Will someone _please_ explain what's going on? What was that about me being president!"

"Ooh ooh, me, I will!" Hughes exclaimed excitedly. "Ok, well. While you were playing dead or whatever, the rest of us were handling all the political crap. It was pretty messed up, you know—first the bigwigs find out their dictator-in-chief's been assassinated by a guy none of them really liked—no offence, Roy—and then they find out that said dictator-in-chief was a homunculus, and that the guy they didn't like was the only one to notice!"

"The Lieutenant Colonel took over," Riza explained, "showing the higher-ups all the evidence we had against King Bradley. Hughes had a surprising amount of documents saved up."

Hughes nodded. "Yup! Funny thing, really—all those research reports we thought we were wasting our time over? Turns out they all worked really well as evidence. Good thing I'm the head of the Intelligence Department, I could drag up all sorts of random crud to prove your case."

"While Hughes explained everything to those in control," Riza continued, "Havoc, and Breida 'accidentally' let everything slip to the public. Not the homunculi business, obviously—they'd never believe that—but about how you managed to defeat Bradley for the good of the people. The fact that he was extremely unpopular with them certainly helped—they still haven't forgiven him for Ishbal, and for a hundred other things. Meanwhile, Fury and Falman went about doing the same thing to others inside the military, gaining you more allies."

"I'll have to give 'em all raises, I guess," Roy sighed, still a bit stunned by the news. "What about you?"

"Hawkeye had her hands full dealing with you," Maes informed him, "and besides, it would have taken a full-scale invasion to get her to leave this room. Heh, even then the only reason she'd bother to leave would be to tell the invaders to shut up before she shoots them for disturbing you." Roy laughed. Riza just frowned. "Still, a couple of times I hadda go borrow her—heh, the first lieutenant can be pretty convincing when she wants to be. Oh, and for the record, I happen to know for a fact that you NEVER give raises. So yeah, you might wanna consider that."

"I give raises!"

"Oh yeah? When?"

"Just last….uh….hmph, as if I would remember a trivial thing like giving raises after all that's happened."

"Exactly my point."

"…Well, who _asked_ you for your opinion?"

"Your subordinates. They're thinking of writing a formal letter of complaint."

Roy thought for a moment, then smirked. "Well, according to you, I'm president now. So they have no one to complain to." His eyes lit up as he considered the possibilities. "Hell, I don't even have to _pay_ them now! Perfect! I can do whatever I want! Slack off all day, fire people when I'm bored, finally get all the hot women in the military into mini-skirts—"

"You're a president, _not_ a dictator," Riza reminded him, starting to feel a bit…'trigger-happy' at the mention of mini-skirts.

"Ok, fine, so I'll just enact that mini-skirt policy and leave it at that—"

"Roy."

"Relax, Riza, you're the only one I'll stare at."

_Click_.

"Roy."

"Alright, alright! No mini-skirts!" _For now… "_Jeeze, you'd shoot an injured person? And one who's president, at that!"

"Weell, technically you're not president yet," Hughes put in. "The bigwigs are still 'deliberating'. But, I mean, public support is through the roof and climbing—you're like some national hero now. So, yeah, there's a 99 percent chance of you being elected." He looked at the colonel meaningfully. "And I expect some promotions on my end, too, of course…"

"Yeah, yeah." Roy rolled his eyes. "I'll put you in charge of bringing me coffee every morning, how's that?"

"_Veeery_ funny, Mr. Sarcasm. You don't even like coffee."

"Hughes, what is--"

"OHH! OH OH _OH!_! I almost forgot!"

"….You know something, I'm afraid to ask."

"Once again, veeery funny. Now here! Look!" Hughes dug something out of his back pocket and handed it to Riza, who eyed it. The thing was a small piece of white construction paper that had been folded into a makeshift card. "Elysia made it," he gushed. "She heard me talking about Roy to Gracia and wanted to make a get-well card. Isn't that _adorable!_?"

Riza smiled. "That's very sweet, sir."

"Hmph, you'll call _Roy_ by his first name and not _me_? I'm insulted. Well, anyway, read it! Oh, but watch out for the sticky parts, she was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the time. With the crusts cut off just the way she likes them. And in her special booster seat. And she had on this cute little bib…"

While Maes droned, Riza turned her attention to the card. On the front were two stick figure representations of her and Roy (the only way she could really tell was that Roy's stick person had a big smirk on his face, and hers was holding a grey line trying valiantly to pass for a gun). Opening it up, she saw that the inside was decorated cheerfully in bright pink and purple squiggles. There was also a paragraph chaotically written in the large, sloppy handwriting of a child:

_"Deer Mistr Roy,_

_My daddy sayz that you got hurt at wurk. I hope **yu** you are feling betr! I made you **tzis** this card to make you fel betr bec…be cause daddy sayz you hav ben sad latly, and I hope you fel happy soo**o**n!_

_Love, Elysia Hughes_

_P.S. I heard my daddy talk ing to my mommy and he sed you where afraid of the **cons**…konseh quenzes of love. I think that if you love sum1, you shud not be afrad because that is a happy thing and you shud be happy ab-out it. I kno my mommy and daddy love echothr and they are very happy. I think you wood be happy to if you where in love._

_P.P.S. Miss Riza, my daddy sez that you ar taking care of mister roy, and I think that is realy nice. He seyz to my mommy that you love mister Roy. Wel, I think Mistr Roy loves you to! So you shuld be**e** happy too. all so, he sez that you where sad be cause Mister Roy was sick and you wan-ted to make him betr. Wen I am sick, my mommy plays with me an I feel betr. So I think you shuld play with him to make him fel betr._

Riza looked back up at Hughes, a rare smile breaking out over her face. "Tell Elysia thank you, that was very nice of her." Roy nodded in agreement.

"I know!" squealed the proud—maybe a little _too_ proud?—father happily. "Isn't she smart? That was award-winning advice right there! You two should definitely take it_, right_, 'Mister Roy'?" He grinned; Roy looked a combination of irritated, pleased, and embarrassed.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm thirsty," Hughes announced after a moment of comfortable silence. Actually, he wasn't, but, as much as he loved that Roy and Riza had _finally_ gotten together, the looks they were sending each other (or to be more exact, the looks Roy was sending Riza, since he was definitely the more perverted of the two) were the kind that should _not_ be shared by an outsider such as himself.

"Oh—" Riza snapped herself out of it. "Of course, I'll go get you a glass."

"Oh no you don't," Hughes ordered, wagging his finger at her. "I'm the guest, I'll get it. I've been in your apartment enough by now, I know where the kitchen is!" He started out the door, but a second later thought of something else he had to say and poked his head back in the room. "Besides, you need to take Elysia's advice! I'll get some water…you stay here and 'play' with your boyfriend." He winked again and was gone.

Riza found herself quite speechless. Behind her, Roy said—with obviously forced nonchalance—"Guy does make a good point, we really oughta follow that…er…._advice_…"

"…." She sighed. Was he always this…obvious? Still, she couldn't help but smile…the past few hours had been a complete whirlwind, so it was nice to be able to just sit back and _think_ for a minute or two.

But if Riza was glad for the pause, then Roy was doubly so. His head was still spinning—his mind was still whirling around, making it impossible to focus on any one thing for very long. He struggled to concentrate._ Take this one at a time, Roy._

Fact: He'd lost an eye. Well. It'd certainly make things interesting. He still wasn't feeling too put out by that, though, under the circumstances. Maybe that'd come later.

Fact: He was about to become president. Ok. That was that, then. He was about to become president…he was about to be given that longed-for chance to make up for his sins. He was still a bit uneasy, though…what if, after all this, he still couldn't sleep at night? There were no guarantees in his life, only dreams. And dreams didn't always come true.

Fact: Riza loved him. ….Oh boy. That one would take a while to delve through. Riza. Loved him. Unbelievable.

Unbelievable…

* * *

Hughes came back into the room slowly, because he half-suspected he'd find one of them on top of the other, and he wanted to be able to back away quickly if that was the case. Instead, he found both of them sitting—or in Roy's case, lying—quietly, not even talking. 

_Hmph….how boring._

He wandered over, figuring that now was as good a time as any to show Roy the hundreds of Elysia pictures he'd missed seeing while unconscious, but something else caught his attention first. Riza was yawning, just slightly, her hand over her mouth to try and hide it.

"Heey." He nudged her a bit. "Someone looks tired."

"Oh, no, it's nothing," she answered quickly, but Roy was already glancing at her. Hughes found the concerned look on his face quite cute, actually. _Heh…look at him, the big softy._

"I highly doubt that," he informed her dryly. "When was the last time you got more then an hour of sleep at a time?"

Riza bristled a bit. "Sir, I'm fully capable—"

"Riza, you might be able to kick the ass of anyone in this room—yes, including you, Mr. Macho—but even _you_ need sleep once in a while, ya know?" His tone softened. "Really, Riza…you spent the last two weeks hovering over him, stressed out of your mind…why don't you get some rest?"

"Lieutenant Colonel," the lieutenant frowned. "As much as I appreciate your concern, I wouldn't feel…comfortable sleeping right now."

"Why not?" Roy broke in. "I think it's safe to assume I'll survive the night."

Riza looked at him with a 'you-are-not-helping!' glare. "Several of your wounds are still infected—something could happen at any time. Someone needs to be here to keep an eye on you."

"Hughes can do that."

"Yeah, I'll hang around a bit, make sure he doesn't die or anything, no problem."

"S-Sir, I couldn't ask you to—"

"You didn't _ask_, I _offered_."

"Riza." The expression in Roy's eye was somehow powerful and gentle at the same time. "Look…I'll be fine. Just…get some sleep, ok?"

Riza wilted. "…Si—" She paused. Old habits die hard. "_Roy_…"

"C'mon…don't make me turn that into an order," he teased softly. She finally smiled, grudgingly.

"Very well." She stood up with extreme reluctance, before pinioning Hughes with a stern eye. "But I expect to be woken up the minute his condition takes a turn for either better or worse."

Hughes saluted cheerfully. "Yes Ma'am!"

"And don't forget to give him the medication he needs."

"Yup, I'll give Roy his drugs, don't worry."

"Keep your eye on him, it's extremely possible for someone in his condition to relapse—"

"Riza. Sleep. Now."

"…Fine. But only for an hour, understand?" She turned and stalked out of the room. Hughes sighed, with a sweat drop.

"Man, if something goes wrong, I am definitely screwed…she'll shoot me for sure!" He turned and gave Roy a threatening look. "I swear, if you die, I will _so_ kill you!"

"…Right. I'll…keep that in mind."

"Jeeze…" the bespectacled man commented. "She's intense, huh? Loyalty like that…heh…you aren't gonna find that anywhere else. You got lucky, Mustang…do us all a favor and don't screw this up." _Go ahead and love her. You might as well…..you only live once, you know._

Roy nodded, seriously. "I know…"

"Hey, by the way," Hughes stretched. "When do you think you'll be up and around, anyways?"

"Are you kidding?" Roy snickered. "I'm currently relaxing in this _very_ comfortable bed, with my only responsibility being to stay alive, all the while being taken care of by the most beautiful girl on the planet." He sighed, luxuriously. "I may never get up again."

"…Ok, there are two things wrong with that train of thought. First of all, if Riza hears you say that she'll _disembowel_ you. And besides, you_ know _how you tend to react to ideas like that, and considering the shape you're in, getting an erection right now would probably be extremely painful."

"Actually, no, it's really not—WAIT WHAT! HUGHES! GET OUT OF THIS ROOM!"

* * *

Riza awoke with a start some hours later. The first thing she noticed was that night had fallen—there was no light coming through the windows anymore, just darkness. Most of the lights were off inside as well, and her apartment was encased in shadows. 

Feeling irritated that Hughes had allowed her to sleep for so long, she got up off the couch and made her way quietly down the hallway towards her bedroom. Although she didn't want to admit it, he had been right—she felt a lot better now that she'd rested a while.

Light was still pouring out from under the door, all the more noticeable in the otherwise-dark hallway. Black Hayate was sitting there, scratching and whining to be let in. Riza smiled slightly. The dog seemed to have taken a liking to Roy.

Stepping past him, she opened the door and walked inside. Hughes was sitting against the wall….fast asleep. He was even snoring a bit. Biting back an annoyed sigh, she went over to the bed. Roy's eyes were closed, and he was breathing deep and evenly, so she assumed he was asleep too. But as she turned to sit back down, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Hey." His voice was fogged over with sleep.

Riza kneeled down by the bedside. "You should be sleeping…"

"So should you."

"_You_ have to recuperate, _sir_, not me."

"Hmph." A grin spread its way up his face. The room around them was quiet. "Once I'm up and walking and president, the first thing I'm gonna do is get rid of that fraternization law."

Riza heard the vow in that apparently random statement and smiled. "Roy, you really should go to sleep," was all she said in reply.

"I don't really want to."

"Don't be stubborn! Besides, I would think you'd be exhausted by now."

"Actually, I am. But…" Roy sought for some way to explain to her how afraid he was of falling asleep, only to discover that he'd gotten too caught up in smoke and trick mirrors—that the past few hours had been nothing more then a daydream, a peaceful fantasy in his head. He was desperate to never leave her side, to stay here--here in this blissful world that couldn't be real.

"Roy, honestly…"

"I'll wake up," he sighed, "and this'll all just be a dream. I'd hate that…"

"No," she cut him off, firmly. "This isn't a dream."

"Heh…" He smirked sleepily. "Promise?"

Her lips against his were promise enough.

Maybe it _was_ unlike her, to initiate a kiss like she did, not to mention one with her superior officer, the soon-to-be president. But really, hadn't he always been so much more then that?

Roy's eyes flickered shut; he shifted a bit to get comfortable, no longer fearing sleep's embrace. After all, Riza had promised him…and, as he'd been made well-aware of the past few weeks, her promises were never broken. Never.

_Gun smoke and roses,_ he thought suddenly. _That's what that smell in here is. Gun smoke and roses all mixed together. _

Funny how the smell of gun smoke didn't bother him these days...that sharp, deadly smell was somehow appealing when added to the sweet fragrance of roses.

Come to think of it…Riza smelled a lot like that too.

He grinned, and it stayed when sleep finally did overtake him. Riza, seeing only the smile, had to hide her own as she returned to her chair, to her ever-vigilant watch.

* * *

AN- please note that this is NOT the last chapter...there's still one more chapter and an epilouge left. (truthfully, the last real chapter is...not at all needed...but i wanted to do it because i have some ideas, and because writing for Hughes is so much fun. and because the longer this lasts, the better, heh heh.) 

as for the gun smoke and roses thing...i delberated a while before finally picking scents that i thought worked. gun smoke is obvious--plus, althought it represents death, in my opinion it can also represent riza's protecting roy all the time--and as for the rose part...those flowers may be beautiful on the outside, but they've got their thorns...they can protect themselves. you learn how to hold them, and you can get close enough to realize how wonderful they smell. not a very unique idea, i know, but i loved the symbolizim and metaphors and all that crap. XD

the review record is twelve...think we can pull off thirteen this time around? heh.


	22. Chapter 21

AN-**tracycoder--** you and me both :winkwink: XD

**peophin-chan--**:waves: of course i remeber you! i'm glad you decided to review again! aah...Hughes is great, aint he? hell, he's the main reason i bothered to write about half of this chapter at all.

**unexpection--** ack...where to start? you pretty much described the EXACT reason i named this story what i did. and hughes just rocks...i mean, i can easilly see him being obsessed with roy and riza as a couple. damn envy, show's just not the same without him! and yeah, that line was supposed to sound...'wrong' XD...totally innocent coming from Elysia, but from HUGHES...heh.

**shizu-chan--** i think everyone found that line dirty XD

**Higuma Otoshi--** yup. gotta love a happy ending! n.n

**JewelQueen--** ack, dont bow! not worthy! XD

**ThatLittleBlondeAngel--** yup! glad you liked! and as for the warning, since no one actually DIED, i couldnt really put a warning on that chapter...heh, didnt think anyone'd notice.

**floOfymikO--** in case anyone CANT tell, i love this girl XD. (although she needs to do some updating of her own...:HINTHINTHINT:) Hughes...as stated all the time, he's amazing! honors english, you say? bleh, tell my stupid school that! i'm apparently one of those 'does not work to potential' students, lolol.

**PrincessLuckyCML--** hell, i'm fine with 12!

**Kagetsukai-Fox--** :gasp: the whole internet? nice! XD thanks for reviewing!

**NoirRomance--** yay! _MY 100TH REVIEWER_! whooo! thanks!

**bonnie--** in short--yay cookies. lol.

**xXsilentwhisperXx--** hm...i'll accept most of your crit. only thing i'll have to disagree with is over Elysia's letter...frankly, since she's so young i cant see her writing all proper and correct, y'know? heh...yeah, it was pretty long, but that always seems to happento me...besides, i'm big on lottsa details n.n;;. anyways, thanks for reviewing, an' i hope you like this chapter!

**Lieyan--** better late then never! thanx for reviewing!

WOW! fourteen reviews! you guys all rock.

ANYWAYS, I APOLOGIZE FOR THE WAIT. jeeze, it's been...er...a month...but i just got so stuck on this stupid chapter! plus, i origionally had this huge 6-page thing, but after a while decided that it just didnt fit, even tho i personally liked it. so, there went the entire chapter! and, even after all that hard work, it STILL ended up being an extremly short chapter! (for me, anyway XD) sorry bout that. um, what else. oh yeah--a bunch of reviewers asked if i had another fanfic in the works now that this is almost finished. honestly...i don't. not at the moment, anyway. i have a bunch of really disjointed ideas, and i'm having problems connecting them. i always have to plan out my stories from start to finish before i begin to write, otherwise i'll get stuck half-way thru, and that would just be bad. i AM planning on starting another one AT SOME POINT, but not any time soon...basically, not as long as school's in. that stupid hellhole takes up all of my time, what with this being my Junior year of high school and all. -.- SATS, collage hunts, all that crap. i really just wouldnt have the time to work on something new, and i refuse to do something like this half-assed. so, for the next few months, i'm afraid it'll be only one-shots for me!

**

* * *

Riza and Roy **

It was just your ordinary day. Brigadier General Riza Hawkeye strode down the hallway in her typical business-like manner, her arms full of files. Amazing how the workload just never seemed to die down. Turning a corner, she was momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight streaming in through a partially-opened window. The sight made her smile—looked like another beautiful afternoon.

A shrill scream suddenly cut through the air, clashing with the calm and quiet mood. Riza's brows furrowed when she realized where the yell had come from—the president's office.

Hurrying over, she shoved the files under one arm and quickly pushed open the door, sharp eyes scanning the scene for any kind of emergency.

What she saw made her stop and stare for at _least_ a minute.

First Lieutenant Cain Fury, eyes huge behind his glasses, was cowering over by the far wall. There was a spilt pile of files at his feet, along with a few loose sheets of paper still wafting down through the air. Oh yes…and there was also a dart stuck in the wall not five inches from his head.

Riza turned to stare at the other side of the room in disbelief, where the president was lounging behind his desk nonchalantly.

"Sir…?"

"Yes?"

"What on earth…." She paused. "Lieutenant Fury, what is going on?"

"I-I was…I was just…" Fury's babbling voice was trembling so hard, it was hard to understand the poor kid. "Just g-going to give…give him some paperwork, a-and he…he threw that _dart_ at me!"

"…." Riza took a deep breath, turning back to the president. "Sir…where did you get that dart?"

"Found it."

"…And _why_ did you throw it at the first lieutenant!"

"…I was bored."

"…" When working with the president, these What-The-Fuck moments happened quiet regularly. That didn't mean she ever got used to them. "Sir, you can't throw darts at your subordinates!"

"...Why not?"

"Sir!"

The president _hmph_ed. "What's the point of being the ruler of an entire country if you can't throw darts at anyone!"

"…." Riza turned back to Fury. "Lieutenant, I'll…talk to the president. You can go now."

"Yes sir…" he mumbled, and slunk away. Riza rubbed her temple. And to think, only a few minutes ago, things had been so _peaceful_…

"Sir. We've discussed this. Just because you're the head of the military does _not _mean you can just…just…"

"Throw darts at subordinates," he tried helpfully.

"Yes—Sir—honestly…!"

The president laughed. "Jeeze. Tell me you're flustered?"

Riza gave him a glare. "I'm afraid you're mistaken," she replied icily.

"Oh really?" His smirk faded at the look on her face. "Well. Never mind then."

She let out a deep sigh, making her way over to the desk. "Sir, please try to remember, you're a _president_, not a _dictator_. There _is_ a difference, even if you choose to ignore it."

"I do not _ignore_ it, Brigadier General," he informed her, the eye not hidden behind the eye patch filled with a devious little glow. "I just don't care. And I'll have you know that was a very offensive remark. My self-esteem is just plummeting."

Riza raised an eyebrow. "…I'm sure. Now, I have some more reports here that need your signature—"

The president made a sound like _erhghlch_…or something close to it. "Paperwork? Didn't I outlaw that a month ago?"

"…No, sir, you didn't."

"Well, then I will." He fumbled around in a desk drawer for a pen. "Starting today, all paperwork is hereby banned."

"…Sir…please just sign the papers so I can send them out on time." She had an urge to add, 'for a change', but refrained against it.

The president paused for a moment, a smirk sliding across his face. "Still calling me 'sir'? It's been almost a full _year_, Riza."

"Hawkeye."

"…Huh?"

"It's Brigadier General Hawkeye at the office, _sir_. You know that."

"Oh, come on. Who _cares_ about proper protocol and all that crap?"

"Obviously not you," she muttered. The president stood up, stretched, walked around the desk—and then drew his arms around her waist. "S-_Sir_!"

"Yes?"

Riza tried to pull herself free, unsuccessfully. (Of course, the fact that she didn't really _want_ to pull free might have had something to do with it…) "Not _here_…!"

He tightened his grip. "Relax, the door's closed."

"That doesn't matter! You're the _president_ now, you have to act professional—" He started kissing along the side of her neck, and she shivered with pleasure despite herself. Struggling to control her wayward hormones, she began, "Sir, really, this isn't—"

"Y'know, I think I finally understand why you still insist on calling me 'sir' after we've been dating almost a year, and since exactly _no one_ cares about protocol anymore."

Riza wasn't sure she liked where this was going. "Sir…"

"It's a turn-on for you, isn't it?"

_Bang!_

The president ducked, rather needlessly—there was already _another_ bullet hole in the wall behind him. "H-Hey! I _know_ there are rules against shooting at the president!"

"Sir, please just sign those forms!"

"…Ergh…" He stared down at the papers glumly. "…Sure you wouldn't just rather make out with me instead?"

"_Roy!"_

"Whaat?" Roy Mustang grinned at her. "What I say?"

"…" Riza couldn't help but smile back, grudgingly. "You certainly are incorrigible, aren't you?"

Roy shrugged one shoulder, still smirking. "It's been said."

Riza shook her head, not truly all that annoyed, and turned to walk out. Roy's gaze followed her, watching as she left the room. He wasn't sure if she'd noticed—probably she had, because she noticed _everything_—but he'd been doing that a lot lately, watching her leave. It was pathetic, actually…even if she was just going to the bathroom or something, even if she was coming right back…he really hated to see her leave.

Roy figured he was border-line obsessed. But oh well. It certainly wasn't news to him.

* * *

The day passed quickly enough, although to be honest Roy never really found himself staring at the clock waiting for the day to end anymore. Work wasn't all that bad these days. 

"Hey! Roy! Look! Pictures!"

Of course, it'd be even better if a _certain someone_ would _loose his damn camera_ already…

Grabbing the nearest piece of paper, Roy began frantically scribbling, head down, to show Hughes that he was _far_ too busy to look at _more _Elysia photos.

"See, Gracia made her this dress and I _knew_ you'd want to see her in it!"

Too bad Hughes didn't care.

"Listen, Maes," the president growled, "I'm _busy_ here, so—"

"What, you're actually doing paperwork for a change?" Hughes raised his eyebrows. "That's a shock."

"Do you _have _to be in here right now? Could you not find someone _else_ to bother?"

Hughes pouted. "No one else will stay still long enough to let me," he whined.

"Gee, I wonder why…"

"I know! So rude!"

Roy sighed. Loudly. "Look, you outrank just about everyone in the fricken military now, go order someone to listen to you!"

"Ok!" came the cheerful response. Hughes glanced over his shoulder, and instantly everyone else in the room—Falman, Breida, Havoc, and Fury, who was sitting with Falman _between_ him and Roy's desk just in case the president had found more sharp objects to throw—looked away, panicked.

"Hi guys! Wanna see my photos!"

"…NO."

"Well, tough! Because I just realized I can order you to look at them! So—"

"Brigadier General Hughes." There was a collective sigh of relief as Hawkeye entered the room and made her way over to her desk. "If you wouldn't mind, please wait until after work is over before you show off your photographs. The men are easily enough distracted as it is."

"Aww…fine." Hughes consoled himself by plunking himself in the extra spinney-chair he'd dragged in and twirling around. The minute he was…otherwise occupied…Roy shot Riza a relived thank-you with his eyes. She merely smiled.

An aura of peaceful tranquility once again fell over the office…

"Royyy! Er, I mean, Mr. Presidennnnt! I'm bored!"

…and lasted all of five seconds.

"Hughes! Go do something!"

"If you don't have to I don't have to!"

"I _am_ doing something! See?" He shot a quick glance at Riza. "I've been filling out forms all afternoon!"

"Oh, you have _not,_" Hughes said loudly. "You've just been rewriting that mini-skirt proposal of yours Riza tore up last week."

Roy paled. "HUGHES!" he screeched, "_Shut up!_!"

"…Sir?"

Too late.

Riza was standing next to him now, and as much as Roy normally liked that, right now it was definitely _not_ a good thing.

"If you'd be so kind as to show me what it is you're currently working on, sir?" she order….er…asked. She couldn't _order _the _president_ around, after all. Except for all those times when she did.

"Um…uh…I'm not…uh."

Frowning, Riza snatched up the piece of paper he'd been scribbling on and began to read it. Roy desperately wanted to inch—or run. Running worked.—away as fast as humanly possible, but knew he'd just be asking for a bullet to the back of the skull. He satisfied himself with shooting Hughes the most furious glares he could muster.

"…President Mustang…"

He coughed, nervously. "Y-Yes…?"

"…I believe we've been over this before, haven't we?"

Roy attempted to ignore the snickering coming from all his lousy subordinates. "B-Been over what, Hawkeye?"

Still frowning in that way that made his blood run just a _little_ bit colder, Riza began to crumple the paper up. "You know as well as I do, _sir_, that you have other things to work on! I would _suggest_ you not waste your time in such an _inappropriate_ manner!"

"But Riza—I mean, Hawkeye…" He promptly ignored all the 'are-you-_insane!_?' looks coming from the room's other occupants. If this bill got passed, Roy'd be able to spend the rest of his life here at Headquarters watching a very hot blond walk around in a very short skirt. Frankly, he felt it was worth risking a bullet or twelve. "I'm not wasting my time at all!" He flashed his smirk at her, hoping against hope it would work.

"_President Mustang_."

Ooh-boy…Riza was positively _growling._ As per usual, the smirk was _not_ working on her.

"Yes?" Roy tried anyway.

Behind him, Hughes groaned loudly. What was Roy _thinking?_! Sure, the two of them were so rabidly in love they might as well have been married, but still. When Riza Hawkeye got _that look_ in her eyes, the smart—and most healthy—thing to do was to back off. Fast.

"Care to explain how this is not a waste of limited work hours…? Surely you know that even if written, it will never get passed."

"Well, I guess…" Roy's eyes began to shimmer slightly; Hughes figured he was about three minutes away from a gushing nosebleed. "But, in all honesty, my dear Brigadier General, just because the odds are stacked against me doesn't mean I'll just give in. No…I'm willing to fight for this one!"

…._Huh_… Hughes mused to himself, watching as Riza's expression turned from one of steely-eyed annoyance to cold-eyed bloodlust, _looks like his Roy-al Highness finally lost his mind. Ah well…guess it was bound to happen sooner or later_. He began to dig around for his camera. After all, how often did one get to photograph the demise-by-gunshot of a president?

"With all due respect," Hawkeye responded, her voice absolutely _frigid_, "I think you need to learn to pick your battles more carefully."

"I disagree." More groans from the peanut gallery—Roy really seemed to have a death wish today. "Just picture it, Hawkeye. Once this proposal gets passed, you'll be able to wear something other then _that _thing to work every day." He eyed her semi-shapeless uniform with disdain. "I can see it now…those sexy legs of yours'll be freed from those stupid pants…" Ah. Here came the nosebleed, right on schedule. "Ooh…and your butt—"

_Bang!_

"Aghh!"

Roy dived under his desk. Behind him, bullet hole number—Hughes counted quickly—fifty-seven had appeared on the scene.

Riza holstered her gun again, expression calm as ever. She strode back to her desk and gathered up an armful of papers.

"If you gentlemen will excuse me for a moment, I have to send these out before three o'clock." She turned and left again, as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened. The minute she was gone, the room exploded into laughter.

"Didja see his _face?_!"

"Nice one, Mustang, real smooth."

"Heh, good job, chief. And you're always telling me _I'm _bad with women!"

"Grr…" The president clambered back to his feet, glowering. "Havoc, you _are _bad with women! And there was nothing funny about that!"

"Are you kidding?" Hughes shook his head. "It was the funniest thing I've seen all week."

Roy slumped back down in his chair. "Then you have no life. Not my problem."

"Seriously, though, chief…" Havoc commented, "Why do you keep rewriting that miniskirt law? Not that I _mind_, but that's the fifth time she's caught you in two weeks."

"Yeah, well, one of these days I'm gonna get it written up before she catches me," Roy sighed. He swiveled in his chair to shoot daggers at Hughes. "That is, after I fry you for being such an idiot! Why would you announce it to her like that?"

"…Well…honestly…"

"Honestly _what?_?"

Hughes shrugged. "I wanted to see the look on your face."

"Dammit, Maes!"

"_What?_? You said you wanted my honest reason!"

"Remind me why I ever promoted you again?"

"'Cause I'm the father of the cutest little girl known to man?"

"_Argh_!"

Yup…just an ordinary day.

* * *

It was late, and the sun was slowly setting over Central City's rooftops. It bled a chorus of intense, dramatic colors over the dusky sky—reds fading on oranges fading on pinks fading on yellows fading on browns. The beautiful, multicolored canvas reflected through the floor-length window, creating complex, intangible patters on the face of the man looking out.

Roy's eyes were focused on the stunning display. He was alone in the room, and had been for some time now—the last of his more-then-subordinates had left long ago, waving cheerfully, throwing one last teasing comment at him, joking around.

Like the friends they really were.

Roy couldn't help but marvel over the ironic changes in his life these days. Had there really been a time when he'd dreaded waking up each morning?

"Roy?"

He turned, and smiled slightly. Riza. Of course. She was always there, after all….always right beside him.

She made her way over, and he slid an arm around her waist. This time, however, she didn't resist the embrace. Instead, she merely leaned in against him, resting her head on his shoulder. For a while, there was only silence.

Once, long ago, Roy Mustang had joined the military pretty much on a lark and gotten himself embroiled in a terrible war. Once, long ago, he'd nearly given in. But that was the past, not the present or the future, and Roy was done trying to force ravaged memories down his throat. The guilt was still there, of course—it would probably never fade away completely—but Roy had made his peace with that.

These days, he'd been feeling a bit like Dante, truthfully…he felt as if he'd stumbled through hell and back. Climbing out hadn't been easy…he'd managed it only after he was reeling and sore.

But he _had_ managed it.

"We should probably go home soon, Roy. It's getting late, and Hayate still needs to be walked."

_Home_….Roy considered the concept for a moment. How many years had gone by with him just drifting along? And now, all of a sudden, he had a home to go to, a girlfriend to wake up with in the morning—hell, he even had a dog to walk. A part of him felt almost as if he was cheating—life wasn't supposedto be perfect, right?

Once, long ago, the world had been very different. Roy'd been different too. But the world was being changed for the better, slowly but surely…and so was he.

"Yeah. Let's get going."

_I guess_, Roy thought idly, _the trick's just to keep swimming, even if you can't find the shore. Even if there's a chance you might drown. You just keep swimming…_

And as the last few rays of light faded, the president and his brigadier general turned away from the window. Together, they left.

* * *

AN- and so it--sorta---ends. wow. cant belive it's almost over. i gotta thank eveeryone who's been reading this, not to mention those who reviewed too! 

stay tuned for the epilouge. (oh, and by the way, when i say epilouge, i dont mean short-half-page-where-are-they-now epilouge, i mean long-ass-detailed-semi-redundant-might-as-well-be-another-chapter epilouge. XD;)

remeber, you only have two more chances to review!


	23. Epilogue

AN- **xXsilentwhisperXx--**eh, they can't all be angsty, y'know? i've always been a fan'a happy endings.

**flOofymikO-**-see, that's why school is stupid. :nodnod: and hey, a sad pathetic sick demented fangirl is the best thing to be! XD i love your long reviews!

**Lieyan--**0.0 i didn't even catch that!...but you're right, though! lmao!

**ThatLittleBlondAngel--** n.n;; so sorry bout the delays, life is crazy and writer's block sucks, heh...

**kamaria--** ooh, thanks for reviewing. my advice? hm...make sure you plan out at least partially what you want to do from start to finish. leave room for improvisations, obviously, but know where you're going or you'll get stuck. find a beta reader! i know for a fact that typos/bad grammer turn tons of people off. (i.e. starting a new paragraph every time someone new speaks, using 'your' and 'you're' correctly, same thing with 'there, their, and they're') and listning to music always helps me break writer's block, so i'd try that if you ever do get stuck. if it's fanfic you're writing, then make sure the charas are IN chara--watch the show/movie/whatever a billion times or so. heh...was that too much info?

**unexpection--**...i have no idea how Finding Nemo showed up in that chaoter...but that was NOT the intent! XD heh, i'll be changing that...i love how wonderfully dirty your mind is...i SO should have added a smut-chapter!

**Katalys-My Death Wish--**glad you reviewed! you're the only one so far to fav _A Pleasure To Burn,_ and i wanted to say thanks.

**Phantom Kensai--**er...was there anything in the world we DIDN'T go over in our e-mails? heh, don't think so. btw, big thanks for the fma ova, my friends and i are convinced that's fma on crack. lots and lots of crack.

**Puddles24--**oh, isn't it? i LOATH writer's block, it fucked up this capter completly!

**noirRomance--**why thank you!

...have i mentioned i hate this chapter? talk about going out with a fizzle...

HI! sorry for the month-long wait again, it's been...a crazy time. sad thing is, this chapter is the shortest, and it took the longest to write ;...plus, i randomly decided to change this last chapter from my typical past tense to presant...-.-...note to self: NEVER do that again! my apologies if the tensing is off a bit, i...kinda rushed that.

homigod my last chapter! this fic ended up being my fricken LIFE! wooow...**

* * *

**

**Epilogue**

**To Turn the Dream Immortal**

Outside, it's raining.

It hasn't poured this hard in weeks, maybe even months—the weathermen have been squawking endlessly over the radio about droughts and heat waves. Roy can't help but find it ironic that the same towns that had been flooding this time last year are now completely parched. Everything really does come full circle, after all.

Just look at him. It hadn't been too long ago that a rainy night such as this would have meant the Flame Alchemist lying awake all night, probably with some booze to keep him company on top of it. But now…well…things are different now. Things are better.

Roy yawns, shifting a bit to get comfortable. He's careful as he does so to not disturb the slumbering figure lying next to him; she's a light sleeper, and it's extremely late. Both of them are quick to awaken, actually—one more lasting memento from Ishbal and the military conditioning that had gone with it—but Riza has it down to the point of it being slightly scary. Let him even _start _to fidget, or moan just _once_, and she'll be sitting up beside him, shaking his shoulder gently to prod him awake. She calls it her duty as his subordinate and lover, if she mentions it at all. He calls it pretty damn impressive.

Usually, though, they don't talk about it, just like they didn't talk about it during the war. Back then, the only restful nights to be found for Roy were when she was on guard….but he never told her so, and probably never will. There's no real need; he's quite sure she's figured it out all on her own.

Besides. Talking about it—or any other of the million other things Riza does for him on a regular basis—seem to make her uncomfortable; to her mind, what she is doing is nothing special. It's something she has to—_wants _to—do…her life is spent ensuring his wellbeing, even now that they've 'gotten together' (to quote Hughes).

Roy still can't help but be slightly scared at the fervor with which Riza clings to him. He still feels uneasy sometimes, still feels as if he's pulled her in over her head. He's still afraid of losing her.

He still blames himself for the single, pale white line above her eyebrow—a scar left over from Greed's fist.

(But Riza still blames herself for his eye, so maybe it all evens out, in the end.)

Over the past year, though, he's learned to shove those fears down deep inside of him as best he can. It's not as if he could ever attempt to push her away again like he once had—there's no way it'd be possible, not now. As tightly as Riza clings to him, well…he clings right back.

He'd asked her once: "If I did something stupid, _really_ stupid, would you still stay?"

She'd answered calmly, without a trace of hesitation: "Of course. After all, _someone_ has to make sure you keep the stupidity to a minimum." Her response freaked him out as much as it thrilled him.

Because it _does_ thrill him, without doubt—here's this beautiful woman essentially telling him she'll never leave. But what on earth has Roy ever done to deserve such unwavering loyalty! Even now, he isn't sure.

Even now, he still sometimes feels like a boy who'd managed to get his hands on an adult magazine, flipping through the pages with guilty excitement. Loving Riza is like tasting something forbidden—forbidden, but oh so sweet.

He's cautious--so cautious--every single day, to make sure everything is as perfect for her as he can get it. He wants Riza to be happy, wants it more then anything in the world. He doesn't want anything to go wrong.

He won't _let_ anything go wrong.

Early on in their relationship, filled with this crazy desire to turn the dream immortal, lest she change her mind and leave him--

(and there's no real chance of that ever happening, he knows on some level, but still…when he looks at her, feels his heart catch in his throat, feels his mind shut down all thoughts but those pertaining to her and to her beauty, he knows that he is too entwined with her to ever be able to let go—he fears having to.)

--he'd even gone so far as to try and reason with the demons that lurked in his subconscious. Because they were still there, no mistake—they're still there now. Even his Riza can't completely chase them out. His crimes, whether he deserves the blame for them or not, are too real, too large, to ever simply fade away…

But, Roy thought at the time, maybe they _could_ be controlled. Maybe. It was worth a shot.

His chance, as it turned out, came a few weeks after he'd moved into her apartment. (Technically, his is the bigger one, but the place's so dirty it in all honesty needs to be condemned.) He hadn't been bothered by a bad dream since they'd begun sleeping together, so to find himself suddenly in the midst of one after so much time had gone by was something of a shock—and that was putting it mildly. Roy doesn't exactly _enjoy_ having those nightmares.

Except…

Except the dream hadn't been the same, not this time. Instead of being caught in a burning maze of ruined streets, he'd landed in…well…he wasn't sure, exactly. It didn't seem to be any one place in particular….sometimes it looked like he was in front of Central Headquarters, sometimes out in the middle of a lonely desert, sometimes…sometimes in Ishbal, but not the destroyed version he was accustomed to. This was an older, quieter city….Ishbal as it once had been. And sometimes it didn't look like he was _any_where—sometimes there was only white.

Wherever he was didn't concern him, though—there were more important things to focus on.

It was weird….as far as he could tell, he was alone, and yet he could sense the presence of people besides him. Wisps of shadow, soft breathing that wasn't his—glimpses of others out of the corner of his eye. An unsettling situation…but Roy'd been in worse.

"Listen," he'd said, his voice louder then he'd expected in that emptiness, "Listen. I know I fucked up. I'm not asking to be forgiven. But, it's just that…it's different now and…" He'd had to stop for a moment to gather up his fumbling words, wanting to make sure he said exactly what he meant to. "Riza, well….for whatever messed-up reason, she loves me and…"

_and I don't want her to have to suffer too. I know I can't expect much after this life, and once I'm dead I'll take whatever punishment I've got coming to me. But, right now, as long as Riza's here…I don't want to make her worry. I don't want her to have to constantly keep checking to make sure I'm alright. I need her to be happy._

It was at this point that Roy got the sense his demons—his whatevers—were listening intently, and knowing they were at least considering the idea was a helpful rush of courage to keep going.

_I don't really have a right to ask this...but I'm asking anyway. I'm not asking for me, I'm asking for her. I'm asking for Riza. _

He fell silent, waiting. He could almost see them weighing the idea. And then…

Then there was this wild feeling rising in his chest, and Roy knew his proposal had been accepted.

He woke up right about then, filled with the idea that there'd be no more nightmares, no more dark hours filled with insomnia and mute terror. Not as long as he had Riza. A truce of sorts had been called—his demons were willing to back off for a while. Never mind what this meant for him—Roy was just content knowing he wouldn't run the risk of dragging Riza down with him.

It's the last bad dream he can remember having, and it wasn't, truthfully, even that bad a dream. Not really.

So maybe it hadn't been a real, full-fledged nightmare. Maybe it'd been more of a warning—you've gotten your peace of mind, but don't get cocky. Everything you have can still be taken away. Careful.

And Roy's been careful, as careful as he can be. In his mind, it isn't all that much to ask, considering what he's getting. Peace of mind, for one…an easy sort of comfort…someone who's always there, no matter what, each and every single moment….god. The way his life had turned out. God…

There's a soft sigh from next to him—Riza's probably sensed he wasn't sleeping.

"Heh….you and your scary sixth sense**,"** Roy chuckles to himself, resting his head back on the pillow. She instinctively moves over towards him; he hooks an arm around her waist to pull her even closer.

Yeah….this really isn't bad.

The funny thing is, he could have had it all so much earlier, if he hadn't screwed things up in the beginning like he had. He still finds it hard to believe that Riza could have ever doubted his feelings for her—to him, it'd been such an obvious fact of life, he's surprised the entire world didn't notice. Amazing what a change in perspectives can show you.

In the end, though, it doesn't really matter.

Maybe it all really _is_ just a dream—it's possible, anyway. Roy sometimes still wonders if he'll ever wake up. Although, if this life's all just idle dreaming, then he's been dreaming it for over a year now….it seems some things really could withstand the test of time. And if it is just a dream, then Roy's plan is to, quite simply—keep sleeping.

"Roy." Riza's eyes are still shut, but her voice is clear. "You're not sleeping…?"

He rests his head against hers, arm tightening around her. "Just woke up for a sec."

"I would recommend getting some sleep…you have an important meeting tomorrow, remember?"

"Bleh. Do I really have to go to that?"

"Well, considering you've already blown off the last three meetings…"

"….Is that a no?"

"Roy, go to the meeting. It's not like you ever listen anyway."

"I listen! ...Sometimes."

"You never pay attention in those meetings. _Never_."

"I can't help it." His voice lowers a notch or two, curving seductively into her ear. "How can I be expected to focus in on all that boring political garbage when you're sitting right next to me? Some old guy is going on about the economy or something, and I'm supposed to pay attention to him instead of daydream about what we'll be doing later on that night?"

"The inner workings of the country you lead are being discussed right in front of you, and all you can think about is _sex!_?"

"…You make it sound like such a wrong thing to do."

"….Go to sleep, Roy."

There are a few silent moments…Riza's breathing becomes deep and even as she drifts back off to sleep. The only sound now is the rain falling against the house.

It hadn't been too long ago that Roy dreaded the rain. But now, even on a night like this, when there are bursts of lighting and roaring thunder claps every few seconds, he's ok. More then ok. Much more.

Hadn't it been a night just like this one that he'd spent struggling through a hellish dream, some ditz at his side? What'd ever happened to her, anyway? He still isn't sure what her name was. Not that it really matters all that much.

Let the storm rage all it wants to. Roy isn't anxious over it anymore. He knows there aren't any nightmares waiting for him—and even if there are, his Riza will be there to chase them away.

There are things in life that are just destined to happen. Roy likes to think of his relationship with Riza as one of them. Finally, after so many unhappy years, he can rest…

Outside, the rain thuds against the roof with increasing furor. The wind continues to pick up, and the windows rattle with every gust. It's simply a freezing, miserable night.

Inside, it's warm, inside, it'scomfortable—inside, it's perfect. Inside is Riza. Inside is Roy's only real reason for living. And as long as Riza is there, well…he isn't about to stress out over anything, storm or no.

Basking in the quiet, Roy's last few concious thoughts are sleepy musings on whether he'll be able to ditch both the meeting and Riza tomorow long enough to re-rewrite his miniskirt plan. In no time at all, he's fast asleep.

**THE END

* * *

**

IHAVEALWAYSWANTEDTOWRITETHOSEWORDSHOLYCRUD.

ahem.

wow. the last chapter. it's been a wild ride, eh? THANKS A BILLION for sticking with me and reviewing all this time--ever since october! it really was a great way to start out my ffdotnet career, i got the courage up along the way to do a heck of a lot more then i usualy do. (usually i'm quite wary about online-postings.) frankly, i think some of you guys (you know who you are, miko!) were waay nicer then this thing deserved...rereading it makes me shiver >>;.

like i said, i don't have any other fulllength fanfics in the works till at least summer starts--but i do have some ideas now, including a M-rated one i think i might end up doing, heh. however, i'll still be lurking around here, writing one-shots and editing this story one chapter by one. i'll note in my profile when a chappy gets fixed up, and some of the changes might be pretty big (i'm adding a whole new thing on Greed thanks to **Phantom Kensai's** advice), so if you have the time, i'd adivse checking that out.

i wanna thank all the little people i stepped on...XD actually, i wanna thank my reviewers. YOU. ROCK. the end. i need to 'specially thank **tracycoder, unexpection, and floOfymikO,** for being the most awsomest--and consistant--reviewers around. plus, **unexpection** never killed me for spelling her name wrong a gazillion times running.

well, guess that's about it. man...it's gonna feel weird not having this to work on anymore...

one last review, guys?


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